Square Peg Round Hole
by Alice I
Summary: Something has been bothering Merlin, and Arthur wants to know what it is. On a trip meant to discover what is ailing Merlin, Arthur learns more than he bargained for. Note that all of my stories are Friendship only - NO SLASH!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Square Peg - Round Hole

**Author: **Alice I

**Rated: G **- nothing bad in there.

**Spoilers:** A mention of a conversation between Arthur and Merlin in the episode 'The Moment of Truth' - no other spoilers

**Beta(s)**: Dhall, Isis the Sphinx, Serialgal, Rhia, Marsha and Oughtaknowbetter

**Disclaimer:** It's fan fiction

**Summary:** Something has been bothering Merlin, and Arthur wants to know what it is. Friendship only - NO SLASH!

**A/N:** This is a little Thanksgiving present to all Merlin readers out there. It is a one-shot (?) that would not let me sleep. I actually had to get up at 4 AM on the weekend and write this because it wouldn't get out of my head until I did. Sometimes plot bunnies can be very annoying that way. I hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving. If you don't celebrate Thanksgiving then take a quick moment to just say to yourself - I am so thankful for... (fill in the blank).

Enjoy, Alice I

**A/N 3-10-10:** This one-shot has become a multi-chapter fic that is still in progress. This first chapter has been beta read and updated. Chapter two will be loaded immediately. Chapters 3 and 4 are with my beta and chapter five is currently being written. I am not sure yet how many chapters this will end up being. I may very well make a sequel fic to go along with it.

**Square Peg – Round Hole**

**Chapter One**

Merlin put out the candle by the bedside, and the smell of wax filling the area seemed to accentuate the feeling of sadness that had surrounded the young man lately.

"Goodnight, Arthur," Merlin called in a soft voice before he silently left the room.

Arthur heard the door to his antechamber open as Merlin stepped through quietly. He listened, but did not hear the door to the corridor open. His servant must have remained in the other room, but Arthur hadn't asked for Merlin to stay. They didn't have an early start the next morning, so Arthur was left to conclude that his servant didn't want to go home. But why?

It was clear to the prince that something had been bothering Merlin for the past few days, but he didn't have a clue what it could be. When Merlin wasn't aware of him, he watched him closely. He had even seen a tear escape from time to time when his servant thought he was unobserved. Arthur missed the silly antics and quips of his normally gregarious servant. Merlin hadn't tried teasing Arthur at all over the past few days, even when several opportunities had presented themselves.

Arthur thought back, trying to pinpoint when exactly the change in Merlin had occurred. It had been going on for longer than just the past few days. The deeper sense of sadness had shown up only three days ago, yes, but if Arthur was honest the melancholy undertone in Merlin's voice had been present for weeks now. It wasn't always obvious, but Merlin was good at hiding his feelings.

Arthur shook his head against his pillows. Merlin was good at hiding his deep feelings. He was open enough about superficial issues. He was always quick to offer a smile, but lately those smiles hadn't reached his eyes. Arthur sighed heavily and sat up in bed. He listened carefully, trying to discern if Merlin had finally left for home. If he had left, he had done so silently enough that Arthur hadn't heard.

The prince slipped out of bed and stealthily moved across the room. The door to the antechamber was not completely closed and he gently pushed on it allowing it to open enough to see inside. There sitting against the wall was Merlin. He sat completely still, his eyes staring off into the distance. He was clearly lost in thought. The light of the full moon shown in through the window dimly illuminating the young man's face and Arthur once again saw the glint of tear tracks on Merlin's cheeks.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, wondering if he should leave Merlin alone. He knew that if their positions were reversed he would not want to be observed in a moment of weakness such as this, but the pain that the young man was so obviously feeling cut deeply into his own heart. If their situations were reversed, Merlin would not just walk away. He would demand to know what was wrong. He would pester Arthur until he cracked and told Merlin everything. Didn't he owe that same loyalty in return?

Coming to a decision, Arthur gently pushed open the door and walked over to where Merlin sat, then lowered himself to the floor facing his servant.

"What's wrong, Merlin?"

* * *

Merlin had heard Arthur open the door and step into the darkened room. A part of him hoped that Arthur had not seen the silent tears he cried, while part of him did. Either way, as the prince lowered himself to the floor, he surreptitiously wiped his face.

"Nothing."

Arthur looked carefully at Merlin and realized that he had dried his face. Merlin didn't want Arthur to know that he had shed tears. "That's not true. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Merlin's heart fell at those words. He knew that Arthur meant them, but he also knew that they were equally untrue. "I can't."

Arthur turned his head slightly as though he were trying to see past some disguise that Merlin hid behind. For a moment the young warlock wished that he could see – see who he really was, and his heart clenched in dismay.

"Why? Why won't you talk to me?"

Merlin sighed slightly knowing that this conversation couldn't go anywhere, and wondering if it ever would. "You wouldn't understand, Arthur."

"Are you saying I'm stupid?" Arthur sounded annoyed and put out.

"No. No, of course not," Merlin said, not wanting to turn this into an argument. The last thing he wanted was to argue with Arthur. Not about this, engaging in an argument that couldn't be revealed for what it was really about.

"Then talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you." Arthur took on that regal tone that he used when he was digging his heels in.

"I can't," Merlin responded in a nearly-pleading whisper. He wished that Arthur would just drop this. He could not talk to Arthur about what was really tearing a hole in his heart - no matter how much he wished he could.

"I'm your friend, Merlin. I want you to trust me."

Arthur's words nearly undid Merlin's composure and his eyes prickled with emotion. Arthur had never before told him directly that he was his friend. This should have made him feel wonderful, but instead it hurt even more deeply.

"I know," the young man whispered, calling forth every ounce of control to keep his emotions in check.

Arthur seemed to be resolved to push Merlin to talk. It was just what he would do if Arthur were upset, so it shouldn't have surprised him when Arthur insisted, "I won't leave until you talk to me. You know how stubborn I am, so you might as well just start talking."

Merlin looked at Arthur for a long moment. The earnestness in the prince's face brought him to the verge of speaking, of telling him what was wrong. The door to his heart was open for just a moment, and then he looked down at his hands, refusing to speak.

"Merlin," Arthur repeated his name, "tell me what's wrong."

Merlin realized that Arthur could see the struggle for control on his face even in the darkened room. Another tear dropped, betraying his heart, and Arthur touched the back of his hand. When he looked up at Arthur, the prince implored, "Tell me, please."

The two men locked eyes in that dark room and Merlin knew that Arthur could almost see his barriers breaking down. He may not be able to tell Arthur everything, but he could at least tell him some of what was wrong.

"I'm a square peg trying to fit into a round hole."

Bemused confusion made Arthur's eyebrows rise and he shook his head. "I don't understand."

The sadness that Merlin felt was so strong he was sure he couldn't hide it. "I know."

"Explain it to me."

There was no point in continuing this. Merlin wanted so badly to be able to just tell Arthur everything; to tell him that he was a warlock and his friend; that he used his magic to protect Arthur and would never hurt him or Camelot. He wanted to be able to express himself about the joy that magic provoked in him. He wanted to not feel like the very blood in his veins was some poison to be hidden from the world and those he cared about.

"I told you: you wouldn't understand."

"Damn it, Merlin. Make me understand," Arthur demanded, getting frustrated.

Merlin sighed. Arthur wasn't going to let this go. "I don't belong, Arthur. It really is that simple."

"What do you mean you don't belong?" Arthur asked, as his frustration began to sound more like anger.

"I don't fit. I never will - not in Ealdor, not here. I can't just be who I am. You can't see it, but it's like I'm a prisoner. I might as well be wearing chains." As Merlin spoke, he allowed his head to drop back against the wall. He wasn't looking at Arthur, his eyes unfocused and utterly bleak. "I am held hostage to a fate I have no control over, a destiny I never asked for. They're unbreakable bonds as strong as any iron shackles."

Merlin looked back at Arthur, meeting his gaze very directly. "You should go back to bed, Arthur. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Just feeling sorry for myself, that's all."

The last thing the prince wanted to do at that point was to go to bed. Merlin was obviously in pain and that wasn't okay with him. He wouldn't just trot off to bed not knowing or caring what had affected Merlin this way. "I'm sorry, Merlin. Truly I am. I had no idea that I made you feel like a prisoner."

Merlin shook his head slightly as a sad little smile turned up the corners of his mouth. "It isn't you, Arthur. Oddly, you are actually the bright spot in my life."

Arthur frowned a little, not quite understanding, but unwilling to admit to that.

Merlin could read his thoughts as easily as if he had spoken them aloud. "I believe in you, Arthur; in who you are and what you stand for. I believe with all of my heart that you will be the greatest king this land has ever known. I believe that you will one day be the force that unites all of Albion. It is that belief - that trust - that is the key to the chains that bind me. I would have left Camelot by now if it weren't for my belief in you."

Arthur put his fingers to his temples, frowning while he ran through Merlin's words. "So you want to leave Camelot, but you don't feel like you can, because you believe in me. Merlin, you do realize that makes no sense at all? Look, I know that life for you can be difficult at times, but running away isn't going to help. You can't find happiness unless you stop running from whatever causes you pain. You told me once that you left Ealdor because you didn't fit in. Do you remember?"

Merlin remembered that conversation all-too-well. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"When I asked you if you had found what you were looking for, you said that you didn't know yet. It sounds to me like you still don't know. Let me tell you what I see from my perspective. You have a home, here in Camelot. You are the trusted servant to a wonderful and generous master."

When Arthur said this it earned him a smile and eyes rolled in his direction.

"You have friends who care about you, a mentor who loves you like a son - and Merlin...."

Merlin looked at Arthur, waiting.

"You have me. You may be a square peg, but I wouldn't have you any other way."

Merlin looked at the prince with his signature smile; the kind Arthur was used to seeing. "Thank you, Arthur. Maybe I did need to talk to someone. You really should go back to bed though, and I should go home and make sure Gaius hasn't left the candles lit again."

Arthur frowned as he got up off of the floor wondering why it had just sounded like his servant had dismissed him. He held out his hand to Merlin and pulled him to his feet in one smooth motion. As Merlin turned to leave, Arthur clamped his hand down on the young man's bony shoulder.

"What do you mean 'oddly', I am the bright spot in your life?"

Merlin smiled back at the young prince then ducked his head and danced out of the way to avoid a slap from Arthur. As Merlin opened the door to leave, he looked back at Arthur. "Goodnight, Sire."

Arthur responded automatically with, "Sleep well, Merlin," and then the boy was gone.

* * *

As Arthur walked back to his bed he couldn't help but feel that he was missing something important. It sounded as though Merlin had bared his soul, but had he actually told Arthur anything? Merlin felt trapped, and somehow Arthur was responsible for that. Or was he? He had no clearer understanding of what was making Merlin so sad, but now he knew that what his friend wanted was to leave Camelot. That hadn't escaped his notice.

As Arthur climbed back into bed, he stared up at the ceiling for a long time. Somehow, he now also felt forlorn. Merlin was in pain but there was nothing he could do about it except try to be his friend. He wasn't going to let this go, he couldn't, but he had no idea what he should do about it. Arthur lay there until the moon was nearly past its zenith before fatigue made his eyes heavy, wondering if Merlin also lay awake, unable to sleep. As slumber finally took the young prince, he fell asleep wishing he knew what he could do to ease Merlin's suffering. But the answer to that problem seemed as elusive as Merlin's explanations had been.

When he woke the next morning, Arthur got up quickly and dressed. Then, he set about packing up his saddle bags with clothes and supplies. He assumed that Merlin would be a little late that morning, considering that the young man would most likely be tired. Much to his surprise, though, Merlin entered his chambers only a short time later bringing a plate of breakfast and a wash basket to clean up the discarded clothes around his chambers. No trace of his previous mood remained as the young man smiled brightly.

"Good morning, Sire. You're up early today," Merlin noted, picking up the dirty clothes littering the floor.

Arthur saw that the smile, bright and welcoming as it was, still didn't reach the young man's eyes, but he had to admit that if he hadn't been looking for it, he would never have noticed.

"Merlin, put those clothes down. Sit down and eat something while I'm out. That's an order."

Merlin stared, genuinely shocked, at Arthur. "Arthur, look, you don't have to..."

"Merlin, I do believe I just gave you an order. Are you planning to disobey me?" Arthur asked, with an affected look of surprise on his face.

Merlin dropped the wash basket onto the floor and obediently sat down at the table. He didn't really know what he should do next.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Eat! You will need your strength today because we are going on a trip."

Merlin just looked at Arthur, confused.

"Don't be such an idiot, Merlin. You are to eat the food on that table while I go and tell the king that I am going hunting for a few days."

Merlin's face fell at that pronouncement. He stood up and said, "I'll go collect the hunting gear, Sire."

Arthur smiled broadly at his man servant. "You really are a dolt sometimes. I said I'll tell the king that I'm going hunting. That doesn't mean I plan to hunt."

At Merlin's incredulous look Arthur replied, "It's a trick someone taught me a while back. Tell the king what he wants to hear and then do as I wish. Now would you please eat something? You're too bloody skinny, you know that?"

Merlin obediently complied with Arthur's order. "What about you?" he asked, around a mouthful of ham.

"I'll take breakfast with the king while I tell him where I'm going. When you're done here go home and pack for a few days out in the country."

"Do you want me to pack up your spare cloak?"

Arthur was enjoying the befuddled look on Merlin's face. "Pack your own things. Don't worry about mine, that's already been taken care of," he said, pointing to the saddle bag on the bed.

Merlin set the food back down on the tray and turned to face Arthur directly. "Why are you doing this, Arthur?"

The seriousness in the young man's voice took Arthur a little by surprise, but it changed nothing. He had made a decision and he was resolved to this course of action.

"Merlin, I'm your friend. You need a break from here, from Camelot, maybe even from me. So that's what you are getting."

Merlin frowned in confusion. "If you're going with me, how is that a break from you?"

Arthur's smile was as broad as ever. "Because, on this trip you will not be my servant. We will just be two people without station going on a journey. I'll get one of the household servants to pack us up some provisions. I'll meet you at the stables in an hour's time. Merlin I won't pretend to know what you were talking about last night, because you were right – I don't understand. But that doesn't mean I don't want to, or that I don't care. You need a few days off, so that is what you will get."

With that, Arthur turned and left the room before Merlin could say anything at all. The young man sat back down and smiled. For the first time in a long time he felt good. Arthur didn't really know what was wrong, but that didn't matter. He only cared that Merlin was happy and that– That was more than the young warlock could ever have hoped for. He had lost his appetite with excitement. He collected up the meat and cheese in a cloth and took them with him back to Gaius' chambers to pack up his meager belongings for what hopefully would be just the break his weary heart needed.

**End Chapter One**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Chapter one has been edited and re-loaded. This story will toggle between Merlin and Arthur's POVs. Both of the boys will be learning important things during the course of the story. The story is not completed as yet, but due to other circumstances I have decided to begin posting the chapters as they are finished. I am trying to stretch the boundaries of both characters in this story without going out of character. I have no idea what season three holds, but I have now seen all of season two and have worked in canon from that season to continue this tale. I would really appreciate any feedback from readers.  
Thanks and please enjoy.  
Alice I

**Chapter Two**

Merlin told Gaius that he was going on an extended hunting trip with Arthur and would be gone for a few days, not wanting to tell the court physician something other than what Arthur planned to tell the king.

"You seem almost pleased to be going on this trip, Merlin. I thought you hated going hunting with Arthur."

"I know," Merlin answered simply. "I'm just looking forward to getting out of the city for awhile. It will be good to get away for a couple of days."

The young warlock wasn't very surprised that Gaius was questioning him, considering the conflict between them over Freya, the druid girl caught by the bounty hunter. Merlin still felt very strongly that he had done nothing wrong, regardless of what Uther's laws were about people who had magic. He had openly lied to Gaius about releasing Freya from the cage that Halig had her in and then lied again about knowing where she was. Merlin knew that his mentor understood what had driven him, but the entire affair had caused an unspoken tension between them, especially after Gaius had to go to the king to tell him what Freya actually was. Merlin understood why Gaius had done this: four people had died because of her, but it wasn't her fault.

Gaius stood in front of the table where he was sorting medicinal herbs and looked at his ward carefully, as if trying to see through a half truth. Merlin couldn't help the fact that Gaius seemed to be questioning his story of a hunting trip, so he chose to ignore the suspicious look and continued to pack his bag. After another moment Gaius set down the jar he had been holding and came around the table, taking Merlin by the shoulders.

"I know that you have had a hard time lately. I have not been blind to your pain, Merlin. Perhaps a couple of days away would be good for you, and I hope this trip gives you the break you need; although hunting with Arthur won't be much of a break from working."

"I don't mind working, I'm rather used to it by now, don't you think?" Merlin replied, hoping that Gaius wouldn't ask any further questions. He didn't like lying to the man who had taken him in as his ward, and although he and Arthur weren't actually going on a hunting trip, everything else he had said to the physician was the truth.

Gaius nodded and patted Merlin on the shoulder. "Well, you take care. Do you have any idea how long you're likely to be gone?"

Merlin considered the question. "I'm not sure. Arthur said it would be a few days, but he wasn't very specific. I suppose it will depend on how the trip goes."

Merlin met Arthur at the royal stables an hour later as planned to find that the young prince had two horses already saddled and ready to go. Merlin doubted that Arthur had saddled the horses himself as two of the stable hands were milling about nearby. Arthur had brought along his crossbow, bow and a quiver of arrows, and a couple of throwing spears. When Merlin looked at them curiously, Arthur shrugged.

"Just because I don't plan to hunt doesn't mean I can't catch some fresh dinner or bring home a reasonable catch on the return trip." He grinned, with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Besides, we need to look the part."

Once they had left the walls of Camelot behind and entered the edge of the forest Arthur turned to Merlin and asked, "So which way do you want to go?"

Merlin had no idea what direction they should go in. He was still stunned that Arthur had even suggested the trip at all. He swung his leg over the back of the horse and dropped to the ground easily. Bending over he grabbed up a handful of dirt and pine needles and tossed them up into the air. The pine needles were caught by the breeze and floated off to the left.

"Let's go that way." Merlin said, pointing after the pine needles now drifting back down to rest on the forest floor.

Arthur let out a short laugh. "So you want to go whichever way the wind blows?"

"Why not?"

Arthur shrugged at the question. "Okay, Merlin, why not? Let's go."

Arthur kept a gentle pace, not in any particular hurry. Merlin wondered again why Arthur had decided on this trip. He believed the prince when he said that he wanted to give Merlin a break, but he couldn't help wondering if at some point Arthur would press him again for information about what had been bothering him. Arthur rode along-side the young man, watching him surreptitiously. Merlin pretended that he didn't notice his glances. After some time the sunshine and the peace of the forest around him began to sap away his anxiety and for the first time in days Merlin felt himself really beginning to relax. After an hour or so of riding Merlin's natural inclination to chat and fill the void of silence took over and he began making small comments about the weather or the surrounding forest or other servants who worked in the castle.

"Gaius didn't really believe me when I said we were going hunting, you know."

Arthur raised his eyebrows at that comment. "Really? Why not?"

Merlin smiled a little when he answered. "I think it had something to do with the fact that I didn't seem to mind that we were going. He knows that I don't normally enjoy going hunting, no offense."

Arthur smiled at that last addendum. "None taken. So what did you say to him to make him believe you?"

Merlin just shrugged. "Nothing really. I said that I liked the idea of getting out of the city for a while and that I didn't mind working in the process."

"It seems a bit odd that Gaius wouldn't have believed you," Arthur commented.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pointedly looked off to his left, avoiding eye contact with Arthur.

"Merlin, is there a problem between you and Gaius?"

It was a straightforward question, but the answer was anything but straightforward. Merlin sighed despite himself before answering, "No, not really."

Arthur obviously wasn't convinced. "Well which is it; no, or not really? Merlin, it sounds to me like maybe there is a problem between you."

Merlin pulled on the reins of his horse and stopped. This time he looked directly at Arthur. "We disagreed about something recently and I wasn't completely honest with him about it."

Arthur seemed genuinely astonished by this admission. "You lied to Gaius?" he asked.

Merlin could almost hear Gaius' voice in his mind. 'There was a time when you thought twice before lying to me.'

As much as he didn't want to admit it, Gaius was right: he had changed since coming to Camelot. He had to keep so many secrets just to remain safe and fulfill his destiny that by extension he was becoming secretive from the one person who knew him better than anyone else. Even though lying to Gaius about Freya seemed wrong, in his heart Merlin still refused to believe it. He looked at Arthur and squared his shoulders. "I did what was right...but yes, I lied to him."

"So you don't think he trusts you any more?" Arthur asked.

That question stopped Merlin for a moment. Gaius did seem to question that this was a hunting trip, and while that had been a lie, it was out of character for Gaius to question something so trivial in the first place. Perhaps Gaius didn't actually trust him any longer. As these thoughts churned in the young man's mind, Arthur frowned at the lack of an answer. "Merlin?"

Merlin shook his head. Keeping all of these secrets was making him paranoid. Of course Gaius trusted him. "No, I don't think that, it's just that he was disappointed in me, but then I was disappointed in him too. We just don't always agree on things and this was one of those instances, that's all."

Arthur nudged his horse back in to a walk and Merlin followed suit. "Is that what's been bothering you lately?" the prince asked.

Merlin knew that Arthur was only trying to help, and didn't begrudge his inquiry. "Maybe a little. He wants to be there for me; to understand who I am, but he can never understand, not really."

Merlin realized that Arthur couldn't possibly comprehend what he was talking about, but somehow just being allowed to speak about it helped him to unburden his heart a little. "It's one of the things I tried to explain last night. I don't really fit in."

Arthur obviously didn't understand what Merlin was trying to say, but he was like a bulldog that wouldn't give up. "I remember what you said last night, but I still don't really understand. How don't you fit? Can you give me a specific example?"

Merlin wanted to steer the conversation away from his argument with Gaius so he picked the simplest example he could think of. "Okay. I don't like hunting because I always feel sorry for the animal being hunted. I know that is stupid, but it's still the way I end up feeling."

"You mean like the time with the unicorn?" Arthur asked, obviously calling upon the most vivid recollection he must have had of Merlin's aversion to hunting.

"Yeah, kind of." Merlin almost wished that Arthur hadn't brought up the unicorn. It was a terrible time for both of them. Arthur had learned a very valuable and painful lesson where the unicorn was concerned, but Merlin couldn't help feeling pity for the deer that fell to the hunter's arrows, or for the other animals that were considered perfectly normal things to hunt. "Look, I know that hunting is necessary, and I'm not against it. I just don't really like it, and if that makes me a 'girl' as you put it then I'll have to be fine with that. That's just one example but it gets the point across; I am different from everyone else. I just don't fit. Even the disagreement I had with Gaius only only shows that the one person who knows me better than anyone else... doesn't really understand me, so where does that leave me?"

Arthur was quiet for a few minutes as they continued to ride. When he spoke it took Merlin a little by surprise. "You may be a little different, Merlin, but that's not a bad thing. You need to stop worrying about what other people think of you. Just be who you are and if someone doesn't like it, it's their problem. Don't make it yours."

Merlin wanted to laugh at that advice. Truly being who he was was his most persistent problem. Arthur naturally didn't realize that, which is what made his advice so ironic. Merlin had to admit to himself that Arthur trying so hard to be open and understanding - trying so hard just to be a friend - was helping to alleviate the heaviness in his heart. Arthur didn't really know what was bothering him, but the young warlock realized that ultimately it didn't matter. Arthur's simple willingness to listen was all that he really needed.

As they continued to ride Merlin relaxed even more. Being allowed to just talk without needing to explain everything was cathartic for the young man and the tension in his shoulders began to ease as the underlying mild headache that had been his constant companion for the last week began to fade away. He occasionally caught Arthur looking at him out of the corner of his eye and he wondered what the young prince was thinking about. Arthur had been so genuinely shocked that he had lied to Gaius that Merlin had to try and remember that Arthur had known the aging physician his entire life. He probably trusted him more than almost anyone else in the castle. He would have to given the fact that Gaius is the one who treated him for any ailment. There really wasn't much Merlin could do about whatever Arthur was thinking so he shrugged it off and just tried to enjoy the relaxing ride and the sun shine on his face.

At midday Arthur pulled his horse to a stop. "Hey, let's eat." he called to Merlin, who was riding a few paces back.

Merlin wasn't particularly hungry but he had no problem with stopping and dismounted as he pulled out a water skin. Arthur pulled out some dried meat and bread from the provisions the kitchen staff had put together for him as well as an old, somewhat worn fur-skin. Arthur handed some of the bread and meat to Merlin and sat down relaxing against a tree. Merlin took a drink from the water skin and handed it to Arthur who corked it and set it aside. He picked up the fur skin and tossed it lightly at Merlin.

"Here, this beats water."

Merlin pulled the cork on the old skin and sniffed at it experimentally then raised his eyebrows at Arthur. "You came prepared." he said, appreciatively as he took a long pull from the skin. The mead it contained was stronger than he expected and he ended up coughing and sputtering when the liquid burned its way down the young man's throat.

Arthur laughed at Merlin. "You are such a lightweight, Merlin."

Merlin looked up at Arthur with a particularly goofy grin on his face and handed the skin back to the prince. "I'm not! I just wasn't expecting it to be so old."

"Old? I'll have you know that this mead is from my father's private stores!"

Merlin just about choked at that comment. "Are you crazy? Uther will have your head! No, actually, it'll be my head! He'll think it was me who took it."

Arthur laughed again and took a pull himself. "He'll never notice. Trust me, Merlin. I have been nipping from father's stores for a long time."

Merlin reached for the skin again smiling broadly. "Hmmm, good to know." he said, in a conspiratorial tone.

Merlin continued to visibly relax and even felt as though he might nod off when he rested his head against the bark of the tree he was propped up against. It was so peaceful out here away from the hustle and bustle of the city and the feeling of constantly being watched. He had nearly dropped off into a light slumber when Arthur's voice jarred him back, but he left his eyes closed.

"Merlin, when we stop to make camp later I want to see if I can hunt something for dinner. Are you going to be alright with that?"

Merlin's head snapped up and his eyes opened wide utterly astounded by Arthur's question. "I... You're... Hang on, are you actually asking me if you can hunt?" the young man asked, incredulously.

Arthur seemed delighted by Merlin's flustered response, but his voice took on an almost offended tone. "I am NOT asking for your permission! But, you have made it pretty clear that you don't like hunting. We have enough provisions to last us a few days so we could always just use those. Personally I would prefer something fresh, but not if you are going to act like a girl about it." Arthur spoke with a playful hint in his voice.

Merlin was completely flummoxed by Arthur's odd behavior and he was sure that showed in his face. The ridiculous grin gracing Arthur's features seemed proof enough of that. "You are the prince, you can do what ever you want to. I'm just a servant, so why ask me?"

Arthur threw his hands up in the air in a show of exasperation. "You really are thick aren't you? I already told you, Merlin; right now you aren't my servant. We are just two people on a trip together."

Much to his consternation, Merlin's eyes grew bright and a lump formed in his throat because of the consideration that Arthur was showing him, even veiled in an insult. He got up quickly and began packing up the horses, making sure he was facing away from the prince; not wanting to embarrass himself with an open display of emotion. "You realize I wouldn't have the first idea how to skin whatever you brought back to camp, right?" Merlin said, keeping his voice even.

"Merlin, I have been skinning animals since I was old enough to hold a bow. I have that part covered, but you do remember the debacle of me trying to cook a chicken for Gwen, right?"

Merlin turned around with a smile on his face at the memory. "How could I forget!" he said with a smirk. His face grew serious for a moment as though forming a plan. "Division of labor will work best here. I'll set up camp while you hunt and skin dinner. Then I'll cook it so that it is actually palatable. Sound fair enough?"

Arthur got up as well and walked over to the horses. "That sounds fair enough. So who taught you how to cook, Merlin?"

"My mother did; who else would?"

Arthur got an odd sort of look on his face and it seemed like he was about to say something, but he patted his horse's flank and checked the saddle straps. As he mounted the animal he looked over at Merlin. "I know a good spot to make camp. It's about two hours from here and we'll have to back track a little bit, but it's a nice spot with a healthy cony population."

As they started out Merlin wondered if it were the two sips of mead or just the fact that he was away from Camelot that made him feel so much less burdened than he had in days; maybe even weeks. Losing Freya still made his heart ache terribly, but what was really making everything so difficult were the constant secrets he held in his heart; they were tearing it apart. Arthur had shown him a compassion that he never really thought he would ever see. It didn't matter that he couldn't tell Arthur about his magic, if Arthur was willing to accept him for who he was. The prince had made his acceptance of Merlin abundantly clear in arranging this trip. Merlin felt a little like he was in some sort of surreal dream when Arthur actually asked if he was going to alright with the prince hunting. Never in any world that Merlin could ever have imagined would he have foreseen Arthur Pendragon, Crown-Prince of Camelot, putting his servant's desires ahead of his own. Except for his mother, no one in his life had ever made such a gesture toward him. Why would they? He was nothing; he was just Merlin.

As they traveled northwest, judging by the position of the sun, Merlin allowed his mind to wander. He wondered to himself if Arthur were ready to know his secret. The young prince had shown unparalleled compassion for his emotional well-being; he had lied to the king to arrange this trip; he had even given up his superior station as prince and traveled as an equal, all for Merlin's benefit. Perhaps he was ready to learn the truth, but every time Merlin got close to letting the secret out, he stopped. The 'what if' scenarios would assert themselves and stay his tongue. Merlin was enjoying himself far too much to risk turning a caring and compassionate travel companion into a shocked, angered and betrayed prince of a kingdom where the use of magic was punishable by death.

Merlin knew that he had been uncharacteristically quiet since Freya's death, but his heart felt lighter in the last few hours than it had since before he saw her sitting there in that cage. Before he realized what he was doing he had begun to hum tunelessly under his breath. He caught Arthur staring at him and he stopped for a moment. "What?"

Arthur was smiling broadly at the young man and he shook his head slightly. "Nothing. Really, nothing at all. I'm glad to see you acting a little more like yourself, but..."

Arthur clearly had something to say but was holding back. "But what?" Merlin asked insistently.

"I never realized you were tone deaf, Merlin." Arthur said, teasingly.

Merlin was just passing a low hanging pine branch and he reached out and snatched off a rather large pine-cone from the tree and threw it right at Arthur. It connected with the side of his head just above his ear and Arthur bellowed his protest, but Merlin had already kicked his horse into a fast gallop headed away from the scene of the crime. Arthur immediately kicked his own mount into pursuit and by the time he caught up to Merlin the young man was laughing so hard he had tears streaming down his face.

"I could have you thrown into the stocks, you know!" Arthur called out breathlessly.

"Yeah, but it would have been worth it. The look on your face was priceless!" Merlin answered, as he slowed his horse to a cantor.

They were traveling up a steady rise in the landscape and when they reached the top of the rise the vista of a pristine lake with white capped mountains off to the left opened before them causing both men to stop their horses and take in the view. Merlin's laughter died away in his throat as he looked down at the lake. They were on the far side of it, but he knew exactly where they were. His heart began hammering in his chest as he looked down at the last place he had seen her, the last time he had held her in his arms and the ache in his heart exploded, taking his breath away. Rather than reveal how much this place affected him, Merlin gently kicked the flanks of his horse and started down the gentle slope to a large clearing not far from the lake's edge certain that was the 'spot' Arthur had spoken of earlier.

They stopped in a small clearing some fifty meters from the waters edge. Except for the clear slope down to the lake and the clearing they were to set up camp in, the rest of the area was dense forest that didn't give way until the foothills of the mountain range off to their left. The lake itself was pristine and the still water sparkled as it reflected the late afternoon sun. Arthur grabbed his bow and quiver of arrows. He glanced over at Merlin who had begun to collect rocks to form a fire pit in the center of the clearing.

"While you set up camp I'll go see about some fresh meat for dinner," he said, before trotting off toward the forest.

Merlin looked up from his work, smiled briefly, and nodded at Arthur then turned to gather up more rocks to ring the fire pit. He avoided looking at the lake as he set up camp and then moved off into the forest to gather up enough firewood to both cook the rabbits, if Arthur caught any, as well as last through the night. He took it as a good omen when he found two forked sturdy sticks that almost qualified as branches. They would make perfect struts to hold a pitted catch over the burning embers of a cooking fire. As he made his way back to the camp he kept a look out for a straight stick to use as a spit and quickly found an excellent candidate. Using a travel knife that Arthur kept in his pack Merlin sat down on a large fallen log near where he had set up the firepit to shave the bark off the stick and whittle one end to a sharp point. Once he was finished with that task he went back out to gather up the firewood he didn't collect upon finding the forked cooking struts.

Merlin tried to keep his thoughts on his utilitarian tasks, but with the lake in full view that was nearly impossible. He thought he had said goodbye to Freya, but his heart wasn't quite ready to let go yet. As he worked he began to be thankful that Arthur had chosen this spot to camp. He was less emotional now than when he had last been here. Perhaps now he could take the time to really let go and move on.

It didn't take him terribly long to get the firewood stacked for the night and get a fire going in the pit. He selected two spots near the fire and took a moment to check and make sure Arthur was nowhere around before using magic to clear the rocks from the sleeping areas and aerate the earth so that it wasn't packed so hard. He laid out the sleeping rolls next and then stood back to inspect his work. The camp was all in order and the fire was burning nicely, already beginning to form some hot embers that would be needed to roast dinner.

Merlin didn't expect Arthur back for some time so he turned his attention to the lake. He picked up the sharpened spit and walked down to the shore slowly staring out over the water's surface. He waded out into the water and carefully jammed the blunt end of the spit into the soft mud of the lake-bed so that the entire spit, save about a half an inch, was submerged in the water. As the cool water lapped at his legs he couldn't help but remember the final moments of Freya's life with such clarity that his heart ached with the memory. He stepped out of the water and back up onto the shore looking out over her watery grave. She had said that he had already saved her by making her feel loved. Merlin didn't know if that qualified as saving her, but she was right about being loved. He had never felt that way about anyone before and the powerful emotions were difficult to cope with.

"You were loved Freya. I loved you with all of my heart. It didn't matter that we had only known each other for a short time; it didn't matter that an evil sorceress had cursed you; I still loved you and I always will."

Grief for his loss welled up inside of the young man causing him to drop to his knees; overcome by the emptiness that engulfed him.

"I miss you so much, and I pray to the Gods that you are finally at peace."

Merlin had never really grieved for Freya after her death. He couldn't; he'd had to keep his relationship with her a secret. Now he allowed himself to express the grief that he had kept so carefully hidden. He didn't try to hold back his tears or stop the sobs from escaping his lips. He cried until he was utterly spent and finally sat back on his heels looking out over the crystal surface of the lake. Its shimmering surface reminded him of her eyes. After a few minutes Merlin sat down and drew his knees up to his chin resting his head on them. He was exhausted, but he had to admit that he felt better having finally allowed his grief an outlet. This was what he needed, and he was once again grateful to Arthur for having arranged this trip.

**End Chapter Two**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N -** Thank you all for the reviews. I am glad that so many folks are enjoying this story. Thanks again to my betas who are keeping me and my facts in line. LOL Hope you enjoy this chapter. If you do like it or even if you don't please take a moment to let me know what you thought.

Thanks  
Alice I

**Chapter Three**

Arthur knew he would find what he was looking for in fairly short order and was not disappointed. He was able to catch and kill a fat, white-tailed rabbit quickly. The coat was remarkably unblemished and he was very careful while skinning the creature so as not to mar the fur. Once he was done he took the flat of his knife and scraped the connective tissue and fat from the underside of the pelt and wrapped it up tightly to work later. The hide would make a very nice set of mittens for winter; maybe even a gift for a certain maidservant. His next task was to gut the animal and he made sure he worked well away from camp, not wanting to attract any unwanted visitors. He chose a site near the lakeshore so that he could rinse off the carcass as well as the fur once he had scraped it.

As he stood up and stretched, he looked off in the distance and saw a figure standing by the shore about half a mile away and realized it must be Merlin. He watched him for a moment, wondering what the young man was doing. Just as Arthur was about to turn and leave he saw Merlin drop to his knees as he stared out at the lake. The prince watched for another moment before turning to leave. It was obvious that this was a private moment for his friend and Arthur felt as though he was intruding. He gathered up the pelt and the animal and headed back into the forest. He could have gotten back to camp fairly quickly, but he took his time wanting to give the young man some time with his private thoughts.

By the time he did return to camp he saw that Merlin was sitting quietly watching as the sun dipped low in the sky casting long golden streaks across the glassy surface of the water, lost in thought. Arthur scuffed his feet to make some noise announcing his presence causing Merlin to turn his head. When he saw that Arthur had returned the young man got up, but looked a bit stiff. Arthur realized he must have been sitting in that spot for the entire time he had wandered slowly through the forest to get back to camp. Merlin to his surprise waded out into the lake a few feet and reached down into the water. When he stood up again he was holding a long stick that had a point at one end. He looked over at the fire and saw the two forked branches driven into the ground on either side of the fire and realized that the stick must be a spit for roasting the rabbit.

"I see the mighty hunter returns with a ferocious catch!" Merlin joked as he walked up from the lake.

Arthur looked down at the animal he held and shrugged. "It was a lot bigger when it had fur, I'll have you know!"

"I'm sure it was." Merlin smiled at Arthur as he handed over the skinned animal for Merlin to cook.

Arthur sat down to watch Merlin work, having no idea how to cook anything. "Why was the spit in the water?" he asked.

Merlin tied the limbs of the rabbit together before using the spit; running it up through the thick muscle on the side of the spine. "It wouldn't do us much good if the spit caught on fire while the rabbit is cooking."

Arthur nodded thinking that made perfect sense. He was actually surprised he hadn't thought of it himself. Merlin pulled out a small bag tied with a leather thong and Arthur looked on puzzled.

"What's that?" he asked, curiously.

"Gaius has insisted that I carry certain things with me. This is salt. I also have several other herbs in here like sage, mint, comfrey and few others."

Arthur raised his eyebrows in shock. "Really? And what would you be carrying all of that around with you for?"

"Gaius made me sit through a lecture on what to do if I or someone I was traveling with - to which I assume he meant you - was injured or became ill. He has actually made me sit through it twice just to make sure I didn't forget what he told me the first time."

Arthur was very curious now and asked, "Well not that I want to sit through a lecture, but could you give me the condensed version? What does sage do for instance?"

Merlin smiled a little. "Apart from being a decent seasoning it is used for pretty much everything. Gaius said that there is an old axiom; 'How can a man die when sage is growing in the garden?' It's supposed to be used as a tea for stomach problems, although sage tea sounds decidedly unappetizing. You can use it as a compress for wounds, or it can be steeped and drained then pressed and used on bruises. Basically he says if you have sage you have almost everything you need. Personally I just like the taste on meat and in stews or soups."

Arthur smirked and pointed to the herbs Merlin had laid out on a log next to the fire. "So what about mint?"

Merlin got a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yeah, well, mint...that's an aphrodisiac."

Arthur knew that Merlin must be mistaken. "Are you serious? Why on earth would Gaius want you to carry around a love potion? Seriously, Merlin, what's mint really supposed to be used for?"

"Hey, I didn't make this up you know. That is one of its uses, according to Gaius, but he did mention that it had to be mixed with other things to get the desired effect. He wants it in the herb bag because it is good for sour stomachs, breathing problems and coughs. If you make a tea out of it, it actually does help with a bad cough. Personal experience proves that."

Merlin chatted on about the different herbs and what their medicinal attributes were - at least those he could remember - while he prepared the rabbit for roasting and by the time he had the thing securely set over the fire, Arthur had decided to pull out the mead again. It turned out that if Arthur just sat back and didn't try to direct the discussion, he found that Merlin was a pretty good conversationalist. The rabbit roasted as they talked, with Merlin turning the food occasionally. Arthur had to admit that Merlin wasn't a bad cook at all once they had eaten. As the night grew darker Arthur stoked up the fire a little and sat down on the log that they were using as a bench next to Merlin who was staring off toward the moonlit lake. Merlin didn't have the same emptiness in his eyes as he had before, but he still seemed sad when he gazed at the still waters.

"Merlin, why does the lake make you sad?" Arthur couldn't think of a better way to phrase his question, and hoped that a direct approach would work without unnecessarily upsetting the young man.

Merlin shrugged his shoulders but didn't answer, and Arthur decided not to pursue it. It wasn't long before Merlin's head began to droop. He had not had that much mead judging by the heft of the skin, but it was clear that between the scarce sleep he had the night before and the mead the young man was nearly passed out while sitting up. Arthur nudged him awake and told him to get some sleep. Much to the prince's surprise Merlin didn't even attempt to object, but simply did as he was told without comment. He did manage a sleepy, "Night, Arthur," before dropping off into a deep sleep.

Arthur stayed awake for a while longer enjoying the peaceful night air and the nocturnal sounds of the forest before turning in himself. He had not slept much the previous night either and it didn't take him long to fall asleep, but Arthur never really slept soundly when he was out in the world, away from the security of the castle. As a warrior, he never wanted to sleep soundly enough for an enemy to sneak up on him while he slumbered. He therefore woke up when Merlin began to mumble in his sleep, caught in the drama of an unpleasant dream.

* * *

Both of them slept later than they normally would have the next morning, waking up long after sunrise. They ate what was left of the roasted cony in a broth that Merlin made from water and the rendered fat from the meat along with a few other dried bits of meat and herbs from his bag. The stew and some bread made a filling breakfast for the young men, and it wasn't long before they were saddled up and ready to move on. As they untied their horses, Merlin gave the lake one last long look and Arthur couldn't hold his tongue any longer.

"Merlin, do you know that you talk in your sleep?" he began speaking in what he hoped was an easy tone.

Merlin turned to face Arthur with a perplexed look on his face. "I do?"

So far so good, Arthur thought. "Yeah, you do, and now I know what's been upsetting you - at least I think I do."

Merlin looked a little uncomfortable now. He obviously wasn't sure what he had said in his sleep and his expression became wary. "Is that a fact?"

"Who's Freya?" Arthur asked, bluntly.

The direct approach seemed to have worked before so he went with it. Unfortunately he didn't get the response he had hoped for. Merlin looked shocked, and even a little afraid. He turned away from Arthur, refusing to speak. Arthur watched as the tension returned to the young man's shoulders while he fiddled with the reins to his own horse, and he got the distinct impression that Merlin was angry - although that didn't make much sense.

Arthur tried to keep his tone as light as he could, wanting to draw Merlin out rather than causing him to get upset enough to shut down altogether. "Come on, you can tell me. Was she a servant in the castle?"

Without turning around Merlin answered in a strained voice. "No, she wasn't a servant in the castle or anywhere else."

Arthur had finally gotten him to start talking and he wasn't going to give up now. "You said, 'I don't want you to go,' in your sleep. So who is she? Where did she go?"

"It doesn't matter - not anymore," Merlin replied, with a slight turn to his head as he acknowledged that he was speaking to Arthur, which only served to encourage the prince to keep asking questions.

"Merlin you love her, that much is clear so, yes, it does matter." Arthur insisted. Merlin didn't answer him. "If you love this girl and she's gone then there is only one thing you can do."

That got Merlin to turn around so that they were facing each other. "Oh, really?" Merlin said, in an almost challenging tone.

"Yes, really. You must follow her."

The sadness that Arthur had seen before flashed across Merlin's features as he spoke so quietly Arthur had to strain to hear what he said. "The thought crossed my mind."

Arthur wasn't going to let this go, not like this. He had finally hit upon what had been bothering Merlin. "So?"

Merlin looked up at Arthur a little confused. "So, what?"

"So, why didn't you?" Arthur felt that the question was simple enough and the solution to Merlin's problem was just as easy.

Merlin heaved a sigh. "I can't."

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Merlin skeptically. "Merlin, who was she; why can't you go after her?"

Merlin shook his head and stepped closer to his horse. For a moment Arthur thought that he was going to refuse to answer him, but then he spoke. "She was just a girl, scared and lost. I told her I'd look out for her. We were going to run away together but...that never happened."

Arthur's arms unfolded and his mouth dropped open as he felt like he'd been slapped. "You were going to leave? Seriously?"

The frustration returned to Merlin's face as he looked at Arthur. "Don't look so shocked, Arthur. Two seconds ago you were the one who told me to go after her."

Arthur would not have Merlin turn this around on him, a trait he was very skilled at. "Well, yeah, to bring back with you. I didn't mean for you to leave Camelot altogether." Arthur stopped for a moment and realized how ridiculous and petty he was sounding. He needed to bring this conversation back into a territory he was more familiar with and lighten the mood for Merlin looked ready to leave right now. "I mean honestly, it has taken so long to train you to be a halfway-decent servant!"

Merlin, however, was not in the mood to banter with Arthur. "Oh really? I thought I was the worst servant you have ever had?"

The fact that Merlin was still talking to him encouraged Arthur despite the young man's obvious anger. "Well...maybe not the worst..." Which earned him a glaring look. "What?" Arthur asked in a tone that was almost contrite.

Merlin was clearly upset with Arthur and it showed on his face and how he raised his arms up when he spoke as if imploring the prince to see reason. "You tell me to go after her, but when I tell you that we were going to run away together you get upset. When it's your idea it's okay, but when it's mine it isn't. Don't you see what you're saying?"

Merlin's voice had risen with each statement but he stopped speaking for a second as if trying to gather his thoughts. "This is one of the things that separates us; it's what prevents us from ever being anything more than master and servant. It doesn't matter that you're not acting the master while we are out here; I am still just your servant. I'm not complaining, really I'm not, but it is what separates us. You could never understand because you have never been a servant nor will you ever be. You can't see things from a different point of view if you have no concept of where that point of view is coming from."

* * *

Frustration and anger caused Merlin to turn and walk away from Arthur, away from camp, and toward the lake leaving the prince standing there feeling like a spoiled prat. Merlin didn't regret saying what he had to Arthur; he just wished their trip hadn't been spoiled by the argument. He stared out over the water, wondering when Arthur would declare the argument and the trip over. He heard soft footfalls and turned his head to see Arthur approaching.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I was being a selfish prat."

Merlin was once again struck by the completely uncharacteristic behavior of the prince. He never apologized, even when he was clearly in the wrong; at least not openly like this.

"Listen, all kidding aside, if you love this girl then you have to go after her," Arthur said, in a quiet but earnest voice.

"I can't," the young man replied simply.

Arthur placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder as he spoke to him. "You have to. You will regret it for the rest of your life if you don't try. Forget what I said earlier. You need to follow her, make her understand how you feel."

A sad little smile turned up the corners of Merlin's mouth. "She knows how I feel."

"But she didn't feel the same?" Arthur asked, sounding a little confused.

Merlin had been looking down at the ground, but he looked up now out at the lake. "No, she did, she wanted us to be together more than anything."

Arthur honestly didn't see the problem which was clear in his voice as he announced brightly, "That settles it, you must go after her."

Merlin just shook his head. He knew perfectly well that Arthur didn't understand, but he was too drained emotionally to try and explain it to him so he simply said, "I can't."

"Why the hell not?" Arthur almost shouted, causing Merlin to turn and face him. The prince looked frustrated and exasperated. His hands rested on his hips as he stared at Merlin waiting for an answer.

"I can't follow her where she has gone."

Arthur now crossed his arms over his chest in his classic stance of stubborn insistence. "I don't believe that. You said that it had crossed your mind to follow her."

Merlin just shook his head. "You don't understand."

Arthur decided to play the bulldog again and refused to back down. "I don't need to understand. You need to find her, make her understand that you can't live without her."

Arthur's choice of words cut a hole into the young man's heart. He would never go on like this if he understood what he was talking about, but it just wasn't something Merlin was prepared to discuss. "I have no choice."

"You always have a choice, Merlin."

Merlin normally believed that statement to be true, but it obviously didn't apply in this case. He had grown tired of this conversation and arguing with Arthur so he turned away from Arthur and slowly walked back to camp and the horses.

Judging by the triumphant tone in Arthur's voice he obviously thought he'd won the argument. "So we will go and find her right now," he said, in a tone that stated that the matter was settled.

Merlin realized that this would go on forever unless he told Arthur the truth about Freya, or at least part of the truth. He turned to face Arthur so that his words could not be mistaken. "I don't need to find her, Arthur. I already know where she is."

Before Merlin could finish Arthur interrupted, "That's perfect; which way do we go?"

"She's right here."

Arthur looked around not understanding. "Where?"

Merlin pointed to the lake, now behind the young prince. Arthur glanced back at the still waters, clearly missing the point. He turned back to Merlin with an uneasy look on his face as though he had begun to regret asking the question. "What, she's in the lake, she lives on the other side, what?"

"You asked me last night why the lake made me sad. It's where I laid her to rest," Merlin told him, and then he turned back to the horses and took a hold the reins as he checked his own saddle straps.

Arthur looked back at the lake as comprehension dawned on him. "She's dead? I... How?"

Merlin didn't even turn around. How could he tell Arthur that he was the one who killed Freya without also telling him who she really was? "It doesn't matter."

Arthur stepped up behind Merlin and once again placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Merlin. Really I am."

"I know." Merlin replied, as he mounted his horse and rode away from the camp, the lake, and Arthur.

* * *

Arthur watched as Merlin's horse trotted slowly up the hill toward the rise they rode over yesterday. He now understood why the young man had been so unnaturally quiet and sad. As he mounted his own horse a thought occurred to him and he felt like someone had dumped icy water down his gut. He kicked his horse into a gallop to catch up to Merlin and as he pulled up along side the young man Arthur looked over at Merlin considering how best to broach the subject that he knew he couldn't avoid. Thus far the direct approach had worked the well, and Arthur didn't believe in fixing what wasn't broken.

"Merlin, I understand that you don't want to talk about Freya, but I have to ask you - did you really consider following her... in death?"

Merlin turned his head and looked at Arthur. He didn't answer right away and seemed to be mulling the question over in his mind, which unsettled Arthur immensely. "I miss her, Arthur. The pain of losing her was so powerful that for a moment I wondered if I died too, would I be able to be with her forever? Obviously it was only a passing thought."

Arthur reached over and grabbed the reins to Merlin's horse and brought both animals to a stop. Merlin's answer was terribly upsetting to him and he was going to make his opinion on the matter very clear. "You say that you believe in me, but how true can that be when you don't trust me?"

Merlin frowned at the accusation. "I do trust you, Arthur, with my life."

"Do you? Merlin I have shared my deepest thoughts with you about Guinevere, about the future of this kingdom, even about my doubts concerning some of my father's laws, but you don't talk to me when you have actually considered taking your own life. It ultimately has nothing to do with whether or not I can see things from the perspective of a servant because I'm a prince. It comes down to trust. The thought may have been fleeting in your mind, but it was still there!"

Merlin looked down, not seeming to want to face Arthur.

"I really do understand why you have been so upset, but please, Merlin you must promise me that if you ever feel this way again you will talk to me. No one should have to bear grief like this alone. You must never ever keep this kind of thing from me again."

Merlin hadn't looked up yet so Arthur called his name more sharply to be sure he was looking into the young man's eyes. "Merlin! I mean it. If I have to make it an order I will, but I hope that you will finally understand that you can come to me with anything."

Arthur shook his head slightly still stunned by what Merlin had revealed. "I can't believe that you actually considered, even if only for a moment, ending your own life! Is this why you feel trapped? You wanted to die, but because you feel bound to me; because you believe in me; you can't?"

Merlin just shook his head. "You're making too much out of a transitory impulse."

"I know we tease each other all the time, I call you worthless, you call me a prat, but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't glad that you feel chained by your belief in me. Whatever I have said to you or about you in jest or otherwise, I would never want to see you die, by anyone's hand. Least of all by your own," he added.

Merlin was starting to get frustrated and threw his hands up in the air. "I wouldn't take my own life, Arthur. It was a fleeting thought brought on by grief."

Arthur wanted to believe Merlin, but the thought that the young man had even considered suicide disturbed him to his core. "I may never have loved someone and lost them, but I do know that you can't keep feelings like this bottled up inside. If you believe in me so much then you must also trust me. Merlin, these are powerful emotions for someone who has lead such a sheltered life, and I'm asking you to trust me the same way you believe in me."

Merlin stared at Arthur long enough that they both started to feel a little foolish and then a crooked grin turned up the corners of the Merlin's mouth. "I promise that the next time I get the urge to fall on your sword - you'll be the first to know about it."

**End Chapter Three**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N-** Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I am almost caught up to myself with chapters and posting so I'll try to write faster. Right now chapter 5 is going through a slight change because of an event in chapter six that is still being written.  
In this story I know that Arthur is acting a little more compassionate than we see him in the series, but I am trying to stretch his character a little without going too far out of canon. I tried for more of the playful banter that we have come to love on the show. I hope I managed it to your satifaction. Thanks again for reading and as always reviews are a wonderful way to keep authors motivated so please be generous with them. Thanks and enjoy  
Alice I

**Chapter Four**

Merlin had never seen the cliffs of Essotier, which looked out over the pass that separated Camelot from Cendred's kingdom, so they decided travel west into the forest of Essotier. The young warlock felt lighter than he had in a long time. Telling Arthur about Freya, or at least what he could, had unburdened him in a way that he had never experienced. He still missed her, but Merlin had experienced loss before, regardless of what Arthur said. These 'powerful emotions' were no strangers to the young man. Arthur seemed to have forgotten that Merlin had also recently lost his best friend and felt much the same way he did over loosing Freya; although admittedly he had never wanted to run away with Will and start a new life. Even the recent undercurrent of tension that existed between Merlin and Gaius seemed far away and less important. It might not be the right time yet to tell Arthur everything, but Merlin now firmly believed that the right time would present itself — and when it did he would tell Arthur the truth about his magic. Coming to this decision was more than cathartic; it made him feel as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt almost giddy with the sense of euphoric freedom.

He grinned broadly at Arthur. "I'll race you to the tree line over the next ridge!"

Arthur smiled back. "You're on; the loser has to set up camp!"

With that, both boys kicked the flanks of their horses and raced off at top speed. Merlin was a decent rider, but Arthur was more skilled by far. Merlin didn't care though; he felt exhilarated to be racing along the landscape and allowed his horse to dictate the pace. The horse wouldn't stumble over the uneven terrain and knew instinctively when to jump over logs and maneuver around rocks with little guidance from Merlin. Arthur quickly pulled ahead and disappeared over the rise. It wasn't a problem. Merlin didn't mind setting up camp, but as he crested the rise he didn't expect to see Arthur waving his arms hollering for him to stop. The horse must have noticed that the landscape dropped off sharply forming a steep cliff and came to an abrupt halt. Merlin was completely unprepared for the horse to stop that way, and his forward momentum carried him right out of the saddle and over the top of the animal's head.

Arthur watched as Merlin's small frame sailed through the air and over the drop-off. "Merlin!" Arthur jumped down from his horse and ran to the drop-off looking over the edge. The young man was about five feet down the side of the hill holding onto a branch for dear life. Below him was a drop of over twenty feet into a deep water hole that wasn't quite large enough to qualify as a pond.

"Didn't you hear me shouting to stop?" Arthur called, frantically down at the precariously dangling Merlin.

Merlin looked up at Arthur not sure whether he was still exhilarated from the ride; scared because he was hanging onto a thin branch over what looked like a long drop, judging by the glimpse he had as he arched over the drop-off, or just feeling stupid for the circumstance he found himself in. "Well the horse heard you!"

Arthur shook his head obviously wondering about Merlin's sanity as he lay down on his front and reached toward Merlin trying to grab his hand but they were too far apart. "Can you climb up at all?" Arthur asked, in a strained voice as he draped himself as far as he dared over the edge.

Merlin tried to pull himself up; not being heavily muscled wasn't that much of a problem, since he was also rather slender and lighter than most men. He was able to pull himself up almost a foot and took hold of a large bunch of vines attached to the side of the hill. He started to pull himself higher when the vines began to pull away from where they were attached and he dropped almost his entire height still clinging to the vines. This effectively put him completely out of Arthur's reach.

"Merlin!" Arthur had lost his smile at the situation and now just looked, worried. "Just don't move and hold on. I'll lower down a rope."

Arthur disappeared from view for a few seconds. Merlin did as suggested and held on tightly, trying not to move at all, but before Arthur could return and lower a rope down to him the vines pulled out and away from the hill altogether. In a moment Merlin felt himself in free fall. He didn't even have time to scream before he hit the water below with an impact that felt like hitting the hard flagstone of the courtyard.

* * *

Arthur grabbed the rope that was coiled on the back of his saddlebag and turned to head back to the cliff when he heard a loud splash. He ran to the edge and looked down. Merlin was nowhere in sight but the ripples and churning water below identified where the young man had gone.

"Merlin!" he shouted as real fear surged through his mind.

Arthur had no idea if Merlin even knew how to swim. He didn't know how deep the water was or if there were hard or sharp stones lying below the surface. He considered jumping in after Merlin but he hesitated. After what seemed like forever Merlin popped up above the surface nearly three yards from where he had hit the water. He looked conscious and seemed fine. The young man looked up and after a second he spotted Arthur.

"Are you alright?" Arthur called down.

"Come on in, the water's great!" Merlin shouted up, with a ridiculous grin on his face.

Arthur almost dropped to his knees as relief flooded through him. "Merlin! You idiot! I told you to hold on and not to move!"

The young man began to swim over to the edge of the water and Arthur got up and went back to tether the horses. He found a steep but climbable route down to the water and met Merlin at the base of the cliff. The young man had climbed out of the water hole that was ringed by shale type rocks that provided good foot holds for getting out. He was soaked through and still smiling.

"You are a complete imbecile; you know that, don't you?"

"I'm not! I didn't move at all. The vines gave way," Merlin protested loudly.

Arthur just shook his head. He glanced at the hill beside him and then looked back at Merlin. "Do you think you can make your way up this climb without falling again? This time you wouldn't land in the water you know."

Merlin refused to be upset. He simply moved past Arthur and scrambled up the slope. As it turned out he was rather a good climber and scaled the slope more quickly than Arthur did. Once back to the horses, Arthur said, "You'd better change. We can hang the clothes to dry later."

The breeze had picked up and the water that Merlin had landed in was icy cold. The last thing Arthur wanted to deal with was a sick companion. Arthur bent to pick up the rope and just as Merlin pulled his soaked shirt off Arthur turned around to stow it. What he saw made him pause. Merlin's back had several old bruises. Judging by the color they were nearly healed and must be weeks old. His upper arms however sported newer bruises that were clearly made by large hands.

Still feeling the adrenalin from witnessing Merlin's fall over the cliff he spoke more sharply than he meant to. "What the hell happened to you?"

Merlin turned around, startled by the question and obviously confused. When the young man turned and faced him, Arthur could see that the bruising extended to the front of his torso as well. Arthur pointed to Merlin chest as he spoke. "Those bruises, where did you get them? It looks as though you've been beaten, or held and beaten or something."

Merlin looked down and seemed to realize that he was exposed. He quickly grabbed the dry shirt and slipped it over his head. "Oh those. They're old."

Arthur finished stowing the rope and approached the young man. "The ones on your back are, but what about the ones on your arms? Merlin, I thought we had decided that you weren't going to keep things from me anymore."

Merlin stood back and spoke defensively. "I know. Honestly I had forgotten about this. They look far worse than they are. When Aridian had me arrested, I got knocked about a bit. That explains the older bruises."

This shocked Arthur. "Aridian?"

"Yeah, the witch-finder. Before they tore up Gaius' chambers, Aridian came down to the cells to interrogate me. I know it looks bad, but it was nothing compared to what they did to Gaius."

Arthur was stunned beyond belief. "Why didn't you tell me that he had you beaten?"

"What would you have done? What did anyone do while the same thing was happening to an old man? I didn't see much point in telling you," Merlin answered, as he rifled through his bag for dry trousers.

Arthur felt badly about what had happened to Merlin and to Gaius during that time. His father had gone too far in hiring that man. Arthur didn't want to admit it to himself, but Merlin had a point; what would he have done had he known? He did know that Gaius was being mistreated and he did nothing to stop that.

"So what about the ones on your arms?"

"The guards with Halig who took me down to the dungeons were holding my arms pretty tightly. When Halig told them to hold me so that he could beat some sort of confession out of me they squeezed a little tighter, and the bruises are the end result. Arthur, this is what happens when people get arrested, or detained. The guards are not gentle."

Arthur frowned as he thought about all of the people who had been wrongfully detained. How many of them had suffered at the hands of his men, and therefore by extension at his hands? The thought made him decidedly uncomfortable. "Merlin, I'm sorry for what happened to you and to Gaius. All I can do is assure you that things like that won't happen when I am King."

Merlin nodded. "I know, Arthur."

They rode on in relative silence. Arthur's thoughts were a jumbled mess. This trip was turning out to be far more enlightening than the young prince had bargained for. He cringed to think what Gaius had suffered at the hands of the witch-finder and yet, like Merlin, the man had never complained. The more he thought about his father's tactics where magic was concerned the more troubled he became. His father had taught him from birth that all sorcerers and people who practiced magic were evil, and yet Gaius used to be a practitioner of magic. His father had attested to that fact himself. Gaius was the court physician and a trusted member of the royal household. He had tended to Arthur from the time he was born, as well as Morgana and the King himself. How could it be Gaius had ever been evil? The more he examined Camelot's recent past, the more contradictions he found.

It was well past midday when Arthur was pulled from his reverie by Merlin's voice. "Arthur, look up ahead."

Merlin was pointing to a figure some two hundred yards ahead of them and a little to the east. As they drew nearer they could see that a young woman, who looked ready to give birth any day, was pulling a travois that she had strapped around her shoulders. She didn't notice the approach of Arthur and Merlin as she bent to her task, breathing heavily. On the travois was an unconscious man with blood soaking the front of his tunic. As they drew closer Arthur and Merlin exchanged concerned looks and Arthur called out to the woman.

"Ho, there."

The woman looked up and fear clearly flashed across her features. She stopped and stared at the men on horseback before bowing her head. Arthur jumped down off his horse first and approached her. "What has happened here?"

She looked up terrified, but spoke clearly. "My husband was injured working in the fields this morning. He was attacked by a wolf, I think."

Merlin had also dismounted and had gone to check the man on the travois. "He's badly injured. Where are you taking him?" Merlin asked, obviously curious to know why she should be dragging him through the forest.

The woman glanced again at Arthur and her fear seemed to increase substantially. "I am taking him to a healer."

Arthur looked confused by this statement. "Where do you come from?"

The young woman bowed her head and answered in a meek voice. "We're from Itardya. It is a small village with only twenty families. We have no physician and no one comes to check on us. Please, Sire, you must understand we have no other option when someone is seriously sick or injured." The woman's voice had taken on a pleading tone and tears began to well up in her eyes.

Arthur took a moment to realize that this peasant woman had recognized him as the prince of Camelot. He knew of Itardya. It was a very small village on the eastern edge of the kingdom. "What is your name?" he asked her gently.

"My name is Inalira, sire," she replied, as she bowed low before him.

Arthur placed his hand on her shoulder causing her to flitch. "Inalira, how did you recognize me?"

"I have been to Camelot, Sire. My father took me a few years ago, before I was married. I saw you in the tournament."

Arthur gently lifted her chin so that she was looking at him and he was surprised to see tears rolling down her face and stark terror in her eyes. This woman was afraid of him which disturbed him on a very deep level. "Inalira, we can help you. Where is this healer you are taking your husband to? We'll take him for you."

His offer of help seemed to frighten the girl even more, which in turn confused Arthur. Merlin seemed to understand something that Arthur was missing. "Inalira, are you taking him to the druids?" Merlin asked, gently.

Inalira burst into tears and dropped to her knees covering her face. "Please, Sire, I've no choice. The nearest city with a physician is too far. Jacob would never survive the journey."

Arthur was stunned by her breakdown and looked to Merlin wondering if he had any clue as to her inexplicable behavior. Merlin seemed to understand what was confusing Arthur. He stepped over and spoke quietly. "She is afraid that you will arrest her for consorting with the druids. Arthur, these people have no one else to turn to. The druids fill an essential need for them. They will not turn away anyone who needs help. It is against their beliefs, but seeking their help is against the law."

Arthur remembered all of the people his father had him round up when Morgana was abducted by druids. Once again he was forced to examine how his father's brutal tactics were affecting his people. It was true that this woman had no other recourse. Where were the outlying villages to turn when serious injury or illness befell them?

"I have no intention of arresting you, Inalira. You are safe with us. Please let us carry your husband where you need to go."

Inalira looked up at Arthur, not believing what she was hearing. She nodded numbly and moved the straps of the travois from her shoulders. Arthur took them and began to drag the device over to his horse and was astonished at how heavy the thing was. He found it incredible that the young woman had been able to come so far, especially in her current physical state. As Arthur fastened the straps to the saddle of his horse he instructed Merlin to help Inalira onto the horse so she could ride the rest of the way. Merlin complied but rather than helping the girl onto Arthur's mount he put her on his own. Arthur wondered why Merlin had not put her on his horse as he had intended, but when Merlin took hold of the reins and bowed his head in deference to Arthur he realized that this show of servitude was for Inalira's benefit.

The young woman led them further into the forest until they came to a small clearing surrounded by a dense tree line to the west. In the center of the isolated clearing was a stone fireplace with piles of wood stacked beside it. Arthur found it to be the most peculiar thing to see a fireplace out in the middle of the forest. Merlin helped Inalira down from his horse and she moved over to the fireplace with Merlin following closely behind her. Arthur watched as Merlin loaded wood into the open fireplace at Inalira's instruction, curious as to what would happen next. The prince jumped down from his horse and released the travois from where it was attached to the back of his saddle lowering Jacob gently to the ground. The man was in serious condition and Arthur doubted he would live through the night even if he attained the help of a skilled healer.

Once the fire was going and thick black smoke began to waft up into the sky and through the tree tops Inalira moved to her husband's side. She had a tense look on her face as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. Arthur felt badly for the girl knowing what a precarious situation she found herself in. "So what happens now?" he asked, curiously.

Inalira looked up at the prince with a pained expression on her face. "Thank you for your help. It would have taken me hours to get here on my own. I appreciate your help and your understanding, Sire, but you must go now."

Arthur squatted down so that he was at eye level with the young woman. "Leave? We cannot just leave you here alone in the forest. This is a dangerous place and you are in no condition to fend off attack from man nor beast. The fire — it is meant to signal the druid healer?"

The young woman nodded. "They will come to the smoke, but they may not approach if they see you, Sire. Please understand. Jacob needs their help or he will die. I am begging you to leave so that they feel safe enough to come to my aide. I will be fine."

Arthur could not accept leaving a pregnant and defenseless woman alone in the middle of the forest. His sense of honor simply wouldn't allow that. He shook his head resolutely. "No, I can't leave you here alone. We will wait with you for the druids."

Inalira became agitated and more tears fell from her red and swollen eyes. "Please, Sire. I beg of you to take your leave."

Merlin stepped up and interceded with a suggestion. "Sire, she may be right. You are known to the druids and they may not come to her aid with you here. I can stay to protect her until help arrives. If you ride an hour to the north I can catch up with you after the druids come to help Inalira and Jacob."

Arthur realized the wisdom of the suggestion but he still couldn't help forming an objection. "Merlin, what would you do if you were attacked? You are hopeless with a sword. She needs the protection of a knight, not a witless idiot who doesn't know the blade from the pommel."

Merlin rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. "Sire, if the druids refuse to help her because you are here then bringing Jacob to this place was for naught. Leaving me behind is better than leaving her alone, and I am not hopeless with a sword. I have been your sparring partner for over a year now. I think I can manage to protect her if necessary, besides it is the only option if Jacob is to have a chance."

Arthur knew that Merlin was right, so he reluctantly stood and walked over to his horse. He pulled out the crossbow and loaded it setting the string. He also took his sword and brought both weapons to Merlin. "Okay, Merlin, but keep your eyes open. If anyone approaches warn them off with the crossbow. You have a much better chance of surviving an attack if you can shoot an enemy from a distance." Arthur thought about that for a moment and went back to the horse and pulled out a full quiver of arrows. "As a matter of fact, while you wait it might not be a bad idea to try practicing shooting one of these things. For all I know you may not be able to hit the broad side of a barn."

Merlin looked offended and took the loaded crossbow in his hands. He held it up clumsily and pointed to one of the trees behind them and pulled the trigger. The arrow sailed through the air and landed with a solid thwack in the bark of the distant tree. Arthur was thoroughly impressed and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Alright then. I stand corrected, Merlin. I will ride north for one hour and I will expect to see you by nightfall. If you haven't shown up by then I am heading back here to make sure you are both alright."

* * *

As Arthur rode off Merlin restrung the crossbow with a fresh arrow and gently placed it off to the side, but still within easy reach. He was pleased that Arthur hadn't insisted on remaining with them for he knew that the druids wouldn't come with him present. Arthur's last encounter with druids in this forest was disastrous and many people died. It was all Merlin's fault and he wasn't even sure that they would come with his presence there, but Arthur was right; they could not leave a woman on the verge of giving birth alone in the forest. Merlin stared off to the tree that still held the arrow he had fired. He would never have hit the tree without a slight, or perhaps not so slight, magical push. His aim was as bad as Arthur thought but he didn't need to know that.

"You are the prince's servant?" Inalira asked quietly, pulling Merlin from his thoughts.

Merlin looked over at her and smiled. "Yes, I'm sorry I should introduce myself. I'm Merlin. Have you ever done this before; coming to the druids for help?"

Inalira ducked her head down. "I have never come before, but others from my village have. I was told the way to get here."

Merlin could see how upset she was. "It's alright, Inalira. Arthur is a good man. He won't take you or any of your kin to task for using the only resource available to you. You must trust in him. He isn't like the King." After a moment's pause, Merlin looked out into the dark forest surrounding the clearing. "Do you have any idea how long it will take someone to answer your call for help?"

Inalira shook her head. "It should happen before nightfall, I hope. Jacob doesn't have much time left," she said, as she wiped his fevered brow with the hem of her skirt.

Merlin looked at the man and he was indeed in serious trouble. He was raging with a fever even while his lips were pale as cold stone. Merlin got up and moved to his horse bringing out Gaius' herb bag and began rifling through it. He tried to remember what needed to be used for fever and infection as Inalira looked on.

"Are you a healer?" she asked, stunned.

Merlin smiled slightly. "Hardly. I live with the court physician back in Camelot. He has told me often enough that I am no physician, but he has tried to teach me a few basics so that I am not completely helpless when I am out alone with Arthur, um Prince Arthur."

Inalira smiled. "I think it's nice that you are able to call him by his name. It is clear that you and the prince are close. He trusts, you. I can see that in his eyes when he looks at you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

The earnestness in her voice stopped Merlin for a moment. The young woman wasn't just being polite, she desperately wanted to help, so Merlin nodded. Can you get some water and a cloth from my pack? We need to try and keep his fever down."

Being as heavily pregnant as she was didn't seem to impede the woman's ability to rise quickly and move with purpose, and Merlin found himself impressed with her inner strength. While her back was turned he looked down at the injured man knowing that if he didn't do something he would be dead by the time the druids arrived. He was not skilled enough to help this man with Gaius' herbs so checking once more to be certain that Inalira wasn't looking he extended his hand over the man as his eyes glowed golden.

"Batian feberadl"

A pale blue light glowed from Merlin's outstretched hand over the unconscious man. Within a few moments his breathing became a little easier and Merlin could tell that his fever was not as high as it had been previously. He was a far cry from healed, but he no longer lingered on the threshold to Avalon.

---

Much to Merlin and Inalira's relief, a party of three druid men entered the clearing just as the sun was beginning to drop down behind the tops of the distant tree tops. They had only waited for two hours and Merlin could almost feel Inalira's relief as it washed over her.

The tallest man and clearly the leader walked up to Jacob without saying a word and bent to look over the young man. He held a hand out over the unconscious man and mumbled something unintelligible, even to Merlin. After a moment his head shot up and he stared directly into Merlin's eyes. The man never said a word but his piercing gaze bore into Merlin with strength and authority making the young man feel decidedly uncomfortable. He suddenly feared that he had done harm to the injured man rather than to help him. It was obvious to Merlin that the druid realized that Merlin had used magic to try and heal the injured man and Merlin couldn't tell what the druid thought of that.

"Where is your master, Emrys?"

Merlin backed up slightly at the question. This man knew who he was and had used his druid name to address him. He could only imagine what Inalira must be thinking. "He... He's not here. I stayed with Inalira to protect her from..."

The druid cocked his head slightly to the side waiting for an answer. "...well, from whatever might have come to harm her. We couldn't leave her alone out here. The forest is a dangerous place."

The man stood up and motioned for the other two to take up the travois. "Yes, Emrys, the forest is a dangerous place. My people have been hunted and slaughtered in this very forest."

There was hint of accusation in the druid's voice that made Merlin wince.

"So I ask you again, where is your master?"

"He rode to the north. Please, you have nothing to fear from him. He will not harm you. We only wanted to help Inalira and her husband."

The druid seemed to consider Merlin's words for a moment before he nodded slightly to himself. Then without a word he turned his back on Merlin and stepped over to Inalira. The girl looked frightened out of her wits as she followed the odd exchange between the two men. He helped her to her feet and spoke softly to her in what sounded like a reassuring voice. The druid never looked back at Merlin having effectively dismissed him. Merlin called out to Inalira, "You are in good hands, Inalira. Be well and I hope Jacob recovers soon."

The girl still looked frightened, but she turned to face Merlin directly even though the druid didn't. "Thank you, Merlin. I will not forget your kindness, nor that of your master. Please tell the prince that I am forever in his debt."

With that Inalira and the druid party moved off to the opposite side of the clearing. As they passed by the fireplace the tall druid waved a hand dismissively at the burning embers and the fire went out. Merlin packed up Arthur's sword, crossbow and arrows and mounted his horse. He rode off toward the north feeling conflicted. The druid who had spoken to him didn't seem pleased to find him there and he knew that the rest of the druid people probably looked on him unfavorably after what had happen the last time he had come into contact with them. At least they had agreed to help Inalira and her husband, and that was all that mattered, he supposed. But he rode off with a heavy heart all the same.

**End Chapter Four**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Arthur wasn't pleased to leave Merlin behind with Inalira. He felt like a coward leaving them there defenseless. The fact that Merlin had hit his mark when he shot that tree was most likely simple dumb luck. Things would be a lot different if he were faced with an enemy or some beast bearing down on them. That thought alone nearly caused the prince to turn around and head back, but he also knew that if his presence prevented the druids from helping Inalira's husband the man would surely die. As Arthur rode north, his mind wandered over all of the disturbing concepts that had come to light over the course of the trip. He had been riding for nearly an hour when he came across a good spot to set up camp. There was a high glade open to the sky near a meadow stretching out as the land sloped down to the tree-line.

The site was quite beautiful and calming, but Arthur didn't see it for it's aesthetic properties. The glade was at a higher elevation than that of the surrounding land, giving a clear line of sight in all directions. He was able to see back the way he had come for at least a mile; a direction he kept a close eye on as he set up camp in the late afternoon sunshine.

As he worked, the sight of Inalira's frightened eyes kept assaulting his consciousness. The girl was terrified of him. That disturbed the young prince to his core. He did not want to be someone who invoked fear in his people. The bruises on Merlin's arms and body also came to mind with an alarming frequency. He understood where they had come from, but it bothered him immensely that they had occurred in the first place. How many innocent people had been harmed by the guards? Granted, Merlin's injuries were minor and he never complained about them, but Arthur's mind couldn't help picturing those same bruises on Inalira and it caused his blood to boil. There were far too many injustices in his kingdom and he needed to begin taking steps to put an end to them. He knew that as prince he could do very little to effect change in his father's laws or policies, but perhaps using subtile techniques he could begin to make small changes. Assuming of course that he could actually figure out a way to be subtile, for according to Morgana he was about as subtile as a stone.

By the time sun was nearly below the distant horizon, Merlin appeared on his mare slowly making his way toward Arthur and camp. As the young man rode up, Arthur threw his hands up in the air, his worry and frustrations spilling over. "What took so long? Did the druids show up? Is Inalira alright? Will they help Jacob?"

Merlin threw his leg over his horse and dropped to the ground seeming entirely too casual for Arthur's mood. "Relax, Arthur. Yes, the druids showed up after a couple of hours and yes they did take Jacob back to their settlement. Inalira is fine."

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and stared hard at Merlin for a few minutes as the young man unloaded his pack pulling out his sleeping roll. Merlin was the worst liar Arthur had ever met and he could tell instantly that Merlin was not telling him everything that had happened when the young man tried to avoid direct eye contact. "Is that all?" Arthur asked, with a suspicious tone to his voice.

Merlin turned his head toward Arthur, his face unreadable. "Yeah, what else should have happened?"

"You tell me, Merlin. I get the feeling that you're not telling me something."

Merlin sighed and took his roll over to the fire and laid it out. "What is the problem, Arthur? The druids came and helped Inalira. What more is there to be concerned about?"

Arthur tapped his foot impatiently until Merlin looked up at him. "They asked where you were. They knew that you had been there and were wary because of that."

Arthur approached Merlin and sat down across from him at the fire. "How did they know that I had been there? You said it took a couple of hours for them to show up."

Merlin had the look of an animal caught unawares by a hunter. "How should I know! They're druids, they just knew. Arthur, try and see things from their perspective. The last time you and your men came into this forest they were slaughtered." Arthur started to object but Merlin cut him off. "I know you were acting on the orders of the King, Arthur, but try and see it from their point of view. They associate you and the knights of Camelot with the death of their people. How could they not?"

Arthur stood up and stomped away from the fire. "They kidnapped Morgana! What did they expect was going to happen?" before Merlin could form any kind of answer to that question Arthur continued as he picked up a a rock and threw it with vicious force into the woods. "I am Arthur Pendragon, but I'm not judged by who I am; I'm judged by the actions of my father!" Arthur spun around facing Merlin. "The worst part is, I can't do anything about it, not yet. I could never change my father's perceptions about magic and those who use it. I am the Crown Prince, but I am powerless to help my people and I hate it!"

* * *

Merlin stared at Arthur as he stood there panting slightly while powerful emotions waged war inside the young prince's heart. There were so many things that Arthur didn't know that he should know. He couldn't tell him that the druids knew that Arthur had been there because they recognized him as Emrys. He couldn't tell Arthur about Morgana and the fact that the druids didn't kidnap her, he should know that there are good people who possessed magic, people like himself. He should know that magic is used almost every day within Camelot to keep him safe and see him ascend the throne, but even now Merlin couldn't bring himself to divulge these secrets no matter how much his heart ached to do so. If Arthur knew all of these things he would still be faced with the same problem. Uther was the King as well as Arthur's father. By telling Arthur all that he should know it would put him in the position of either having to turn Merlin and Morgana over to Uther or be complicit in treason. That was not a position Merlin was willing to put Arthur in unless it was absolutely necessary.

With the foul mood of the prince over all of this, Merlin wondered if he should mention Inalira's words as he left. After only a moment's thought he spoke up. "Inalira asked me to thank you for your help. She said she would be forever in your debt."

Arthur sighed deeply and came back sitting down cross-legged by the fire. The silence between them was becoming awkward so Arthur picked up a small pebble and tossed it at Merlin.

"You were supposed to set up camp you know!" The smile that turned up the corners of Arthur's mouth was a relief to Merlin.

"Funny how that worked out isn't it?" he said, with a grin.

That comment earned him another pebble tossed in his direction, but at least Arthur seemed to be moving past his irritated mood. Merlin rummaged through the bags and pulled out some supplies for dinner. It wasn't as nice as the fresh rabbit had been the previous evening, but that wasn't a problem for either of the young men who both seemed to be occupied with their own inner thoughts.

Arthur had been so quite that Merlin felt the need to try and make him feel better about things. "Arthur, you do realize that none of this isn't your fault."

Arthur's gaze slid from the night sky over to Merlin. "What isn't my fault?"

"I know that Inalira's fear is bothering you. It isn't your fault. I explained to her that she had nothing to fear from you. I said the same thing to the druids. You're right; it isn't fair that you are judged by the actions of someone else, but that is the reality you face every day. No one should be judged by the actions of others. Everyone should have the right to be judged by their own actions...even a royal prat like you." he added with a smirk.

Arthur was close enough to reach out and lightly punch Merlin in the arm.

"Ow!"

Arthur looked at Merlin for a moment then dropped his head. "Sorry, I forgot about the bruises."

Merlin just shook his head. He didn't want Arthur to feel this way. "Don't worry about it. They don't really hurt anyway. Arthur, I know that you will be a great King someday, and even though some people may fear the laws where magic is concerned I also believe that the people of this kingdom feel the same way about you as I do. You are well loved. When you lay dying of the bite from the Questing Beast the people all mourned. They came to the castle and held a vigil outside the walls praying for your recovery."

Arthur stared at Merlin with his mouth hanging open. "They did? I never knew that."

"It's true. It won't be easy to change the perceptions that have been put in place over the last twenty years but it isn't impossible. I have every confidence that you will right the wrongs you see, and bring true peace and happiness to this kingdom."

* * *

Arthur didn't sleep well as a myriad of issues rocketed around in his mind. This trip had become emotionally complicated for the young prince and he didn't like it. This was supposed to be a simple excursion; some time away from the castle and the city so Merlin could have some down time and maybe even open up about what had been upsetting him so much lately. That part of the plan had worked brilliantly, for Merlin had indeed opened up to him. What Arthur hadn't bargained for were the revelations that he seemed to be getting around every corner. He felt completely out of touch with his people and his kingdom regardless of what Merlin had said to him.

Long after Merlin had gone to sleep Arthur remained awake thinking and staring up into the starlit sky. He didn't remember falling asleep and as the bright morning sun spread across his face with it's warm rays he rolled to his side and slowly opened his eyes. There was a small fire in the fire-pit with a hot cup of tea sitting close by along with a parchment filled with dried meat, bread and cheese. Arthur looked around and didn't see Merlin in the camp and wondered how he had managed to have a hot cup ready for him before he even woke up.

The young prince sat up and stretched then got up to go into the forest edge to relieve himself before returning to the small fire to eat the breakfast that Merlin had left out for him. It was earlier than he had woken the day before, but still well past sunrise. Arthur was glad for the tea as the morning air had a decided nip to it. Once he had finished eating he stood up and looked around, wondering where Merlin had gotten to.

He walked toward the open field and saw Merlin off in the distance not far from the edge of the forrest on the north side of the meadow. He was sitting down on a short stump and much to Arthur's utter surprise a young doe was standing not four feet from the young man. Merlin held out his hand and as Arthur watched, the deer raised her head and lowered it again as if trying to decide what to do. Merlin simply held out his hand and waited. Arthur wanted to laugh at the scene before him. He couldn't believe that Merlin actually thought that a wild deer would approach a human being, but as the thought ran through his mind he was shocked to see the doe do just exactly that.

The deer slowly approached the young man who had a look on his face of pure wonder. It was like looking through the eyes of a child and Arthur found that he was holding his breath waiting to see what would happen next. The doe nosed his outstretched hand as if looking for food then came close enough that Merlin was able to gently stroke her neck.

Arthur couldn't help thinking that as soon as he thought he understood everything about his clumsy, bumbling servant the young man would surprise him. The scene before him was so unbelievable that Arthur could only stand and watch mystified at the purity of his friend. The thought of hunting this animal never even entered his mind as he looked on.

The peacefulness of the scene before him was instantly shattered when out of the forest to the west a crossbow's arrow shot through the field and impaled the deer through her neck. Merlin screamed in shock and pain as the arrow went through the deer and embedded itself in his forearm connecting them together. Arthur dropped the cup of tea he had been holding and shouted, "Merlin!"

He looked off to the west and saw the retreating back of the hunter who had shot the arrow. For a fleeting moment he thought to go after the man, but Merlin had obviously been hurt and that took precedence over apprehending the hunter.

Arthur ran as fast as he could to Merlin and the deer who bucked backward. Merlin was pulled forward being physically connected to the animal and he screamed again as he was dragged forward by the wounded animal. By the time Arthur reached them the deer had lost enough blood that she was staggering and fell forward as her front legs crumpled underneath her dragging Merlin down with her.

Arthur reached them and grabbed the end of the arrow sticking out of the deer and snapped the shaft quickly then grabbed Merlin and pulled him unceremoniously away from the deer. The broken shaft slipped through the neck of the deer as Arthur dragged Merlin away disconnecting the two. The wound in the deer's neck was bleeding, but Arthur's trained eye could tell that the major veins and arteries had somehow been missed. The deer managed to gain her front legs again and staggered off away from the men, but for some reason stopped about forty feet away with her head hanging low and breathing heavily.

Merlin looked up at Arthur with pain and shock in his eyes. "You shot me."

Arthur's attention was drawn away from the oddly behaving deer and back to Merlin. He was horrified that Merlin would think that he had done this. "No, Merlin, I didn't, it was someone else; now try to hold still while I look at this wound."

The arrow had gone through the middle of Merlin's forearm on the underside of it and the point was almost through the back of it, but not all the way. The point had missed both bones and went through between them. He hoped that the tendons had survived as well.

"Can you move your fingers, Merlin?" He asked, as he ripped the edge of his own shirt for a bandage.

Merlin did manage to wiggle his fingers slightly and Arthur knew what he needed to do. He took hold of Merlin's arm in one hand and the arrow shaft in the other. "Hold on, this is going to hurt a little." he said, as he once again snapped the shaft off closer to Merlin's arm.

Merlin hollered in pain and looked at Arthur accusingly. "A little?!"

Arthur actually had an apologetic look on his face which he was certain confused Merlin, but he knew that what he was about to do would hurt far more. "Merlin, listen to me. The only way to get the arrow head out is to push it all the way through."

Merlin paled visibly at that, and looked up with frightened eyes. "Can't you just leave it?" he asked, in a small terrified voice.

"You know I can't, but if I try to pull it out it will cause more damage inside your arm."

After a moment Merlin took a deep breath and nodded. Arthur didn't waste any time. He shoved the arrow through Merlin's arm from the shaft end and once the tip had come completely through the other side he reached around and grabbed the tip and yanked it out quickly.

Merlin tried hard not to scream in pain, and failed spectacularly. Arthur quickly wrapped the young man's arm tightly in the strip of cloth he had torn from his shirt as Merlin whimpered softly. Once the wound had been bandaged Arthur noticed that Merlin's breathing was labored and he remembered the deer. He glanced over at the animal who hadn't yet moved and saw that it too was having trouble breathing, and fear began to twist in his gut at the twin symptoms that were being displayed.

"Do you think you can stand up?" Arthur asked gently.

Merlin just nodded and raised a hand to accept Arthur's help in standing. Arthur was immediately concerned when Merlin didn't seem to have the strength to properly grip his hand, and judging by the frightened look on Merlin's face he shared Arthur's alarm. Once he was up and on his feet Merlin wobbled precariously for a moment and Arthur quickly wrapped his arm around the thin waist to steady the young man. Arthur knew that Merlin was not the most graceful person and often stumbled, but as they made their way slowly back toward camp and the horses, he staggered so dramatically that Arthur found himself practically carrying the smaller man.

Arthur glanced back at the deer and saw it was also staggering as it tried to move back into the forrest. Then suddenly as if in unison both Merlin and the deer's legs crumpled underneath them. That was when Arthur knew Merlin was in serious trouble. The arrow had been poisoned.

**End Chapter Five**

**A/N - **Thank you for all the reviews. I am still working on chapter seven and chapter six is in it's final beta session so hopefully it won't be too terribly long for the next update. Sorry about the cliffie - I do kind of love them though. :-)


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - **Chapter 7 is with the betas and chapter 8 is just started so after this post it may be up to a week before the next chapter goes up. I am trying to keep up, but please be aware that I am hosting Easter next weekend so I may get a wee bit behind, but not for long - I promise.  
This chapter went through multiple changes and edits to try and make it right. Just a note the symptoms Merlin experiences here came directly from my research of the poison used on the arrow.  
Please enjoy, and let me know what you think.

**Chapter Six**

Merlin knew that something was very wrong besides being shot by an arrow, because the pain in his arm was far worse than he thought it should have been. His very blood felt as though it were boiling. When Arthur asked him if he could stand up and he reached up with his right hand, he couldn't really feel the prince's hand closing around his. He felt the pressure of Arthur's grip, but everything was going numb and that frightened him. Why would his right hand feel numb when his left arm had been shot?

With Arthur's help, he managed to get to his feet, but as with his hands, he didn't really feel his boots touching the ground. He knew what muscles to move in order to walk but he had to concentrate in order to get them to move correctly. With every step he took, he felt as though he was trying to get disembodied limbs to do his bidding, and the feeling was disconcerting. He didn't feel pain in his legs or feet; the problem was he couldn't feel anything, or at least very little. Any sensation he was able to perceive seemed distant, as though in a dream.

Arthur ended up grabbing him around his waist to keep him upright, which he was grateful for, but once again, the sensation of the strong arm around his body supporting its weight felt far-off and transitory. The only acute sensation he could feel was the burning in his left arm as though liquid fire were scorching through his veins. The sensation dulled as it reached the tightly wrapped bandage Arthur had fastened in place but it was beginning to move beyond that and up to his elbow.

The bright morning sun was burning his eyes and he had to squint to filter it out as an insistent thrumming began to pound throughout his skull. After a few more tentative steps he began to lose focus and forgot to pay attention to where his feet were supposed to go. He wanted the sun to hide behind a cloud and the drumming in his head to quiet. He had the feeling that he was supposed to be doing something right now but he couldn't remember what it was. He felt the arm around his middle tighten and then he remembered; he was supposed to be walking. He tried to focus on his feet but the pounding in his head began to synchronize with the throbbing he sensed in his left hand.

He had once again forgotten that he was supposed to be walking, but it didn't really matter anymore since he couldn't feel his feet at all now. He supposed they must still be attached to the bottoms of his legs, since that was where they should have been. Merlin didn't feel his legs buckle underneath him. He was dimly aware that the arm wrapped around his middle grew much tighter, and he supposed there must be a good reason for that. The pounding in his head was becoming all-encompassing and its steady beat marched across his consciousness in time with the throbbing in his hand.

A rasping sound filled Merlin's ears and he wondered what it was. It was hard to concentrate over the voice that kept calling out a name. It seemed to be a very familiar name, but he couldn't quite remember who _Merlin_ was. He was feeling light headed, and wanted to ask the person with him what was going on, but when he attempted to speak the only sound that issued from his mouth was more rasping. It wasn't until that moment that he realized the sound he was hearing was his own breathing. That confused him even further because he was certain that breathing wasn't supposed to sound like that. Merlin wished someone would blow out some of the candles because it was so bright that his eyes were hurting. He wished the throbbing in his hand and head would stop and he wished he could take a deep breath. Most of all he just wished to close his eyes and take a quick nap.

* * *

Panic swirled around in Arthur's mind. Merlin had collapsed after only a few staggering steps and wasn't responding when Arthur called his name. They were easily a day and a half's ride from Camelot and Gaius' help. Merlin would never survive that long. His breathing was becoming more and more ragged as the seconds passed by. The poison on the arrow was strong enough to incapacitate a deer, so how much worse would it be for Merlin? His friend was slight of build to begin with. The only saving grace that Arthur could imagine was that the arrow had passed through the deer first, hopefully wiping most of the poison off the arrowhead.

A thought suddenly occurred to Arthur that sent a chill down his spine. He quickly held up his own hand to see if the skin had been broken when he pulled the arrow out of Merlin's arm. If he had been poisoned as well they were both done for. His hand was covered in blood, but upon close inspection, it all appeared to be Merlin's; there was no break in the skin, and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

Arthur had to get Merlin to help quickly and he had only one option available to him. He must go back to the clearing in the forest and call for the druid healer. The fact that going to the druids for help was an act of treason didn't cause the young prince to hesitate. It was a simple matter of necessity just as it had been with Inalira. Like her, he had no other choice. He gathered the nearly unconscious young man up in his arms and carried him quickly back to their camp where the horses were tethered.

Arthur had to lie Merlin down on the ground so he could douse the fire and quickly gather up his sleeping roll. Thankfully, Merlin had already packed up his own horse before he wandered down into the meadow. It only took Arthur a few minutes to prepare the horses to leave and in that time, Merlin had begun gasping for breath. Arthur had no idea what to do for him other than to get him to help as quickly as he could. The young man's breathing was so labored at this point that Arthur didn't think draping him over the back of his horse would be a good idea. Coming to a quick decision, Arthur tied the mare to the back of his horse's saddle before hoisting Merlin up into it, and then he climbed up behind the young man and did his best to secure Merlin in front of him.

Merlin may have been a smaller man than Arthur, but the two of them barely fit into the saddle, causing Arthur to feel awkward in his own mount. Ignoring the discomfort, he kicked his horse's flanks and galloped south as fast as was reasonably possible with two riders on one horse and a second horse tied up behind.

They managed a steady gallop all the way back to the clearing with the open fireplace, and it took a little over a half an hour to arrive. As soon as he got there, Arthur jumped down and grabbed Merlin, sliding him down off the horse. He had become very pale and his breathing was now fast and shallow. His hand and forearm had become swollen to twice the normal size and his fingers were turning so dark they were almost black. His brow was hot with fever yet at the same time he was bone dry, not sweating at all.

Knowing there was no time to waste, Arthur piled wood into the fireplace and lit it as quickly as he could, stoking the fire until it was a roaring blaze. He fanned the smoke to get it to waft up and move through the trees more quickly, trying to convey his urgency. Merlin had said that it took the druids almost two hours to show up for Inalira's fire, and he was worried that that would be too long.

He went back to where Merlin lay, feeling utterly helpless as the young man struggled to breathe. He had seemed to breathe a little easier when he was on the horse, so Arthur dragged him over to a nearby stump and propped him up against it, which proved to be utterly useless when Merlin's limp body simply fell over. Arthur ran back to the horses and pulled down both saddlebags and the blanket underneath Merlin's saddle. He wrapped the blanket around the saddle bags and then laid Merlin's upper body on top of them which more securely propped him up and it did seem to help his breathing, if only marginally.

Arthur looked at Merlin's arm again and saw that blood had soaked through the makeshift bandage he had wrapped around the limb, and the tied strip of cloth was extremely tight due to the swelling of Merlin's arm. Arthur was tempted to remove the cloth, but hesitated in doing so. The tight bandage seemed to be keeping much of the poison from traveling up Merlin's arm. The skin above the bandage was not as discolored and was less swollen.

"Hang on, Merlin, help is coming. Just hang on for me." Arthur spoke in what he hoped was a calming voice. He didn't know if Merlin could hear him or not, but it felt better to reassure the young man.

Almost a half an hour had passed after lighting the fire, and Arthur couldn't stand just sitting there doing nothing, so he jumped up and began pacing. He was very concerned that the druids would not come if he were present, but there was no way that he would leave Merlin alone in the middle of the forest.

"Come on! Where are you?" he called out, to the dark woods beyond the clearing.

Merlin began coughing and wheezing drawing Arthur's attention to him. His face was beginning to turn red as he coughed and sputtered. Arthur grabbed the water-skin from his horse and sat next to Merlin holding his head up in his hand. He tried to speak soothing words to the young man as fear grew in his heart. Merlin's gasping became more frantic and Arthur pulled him up into a sitting position trying to help him recover his breath. He knelt and allowed Merlin's back to rest against his body holding him around the chest trying to calm the young man down. It took what felt like a very long time for the coughing and gasping to ease up before Merlin's head dropped back against Arthur's chest.

Even in a semiconscious state Merlin looked utterly exhausted from the ordeal and Arthur shook him gently speaking quietly to him, trying to get him to drink some water. Merlin weakly raised a hand and tried to push the water-skin away, but Arthur gently insisted.

"Come on, Merlin; try to take a sip of water. You need it."

Arthur noticed how dry Merlin's mouth was; his lips were beginning to chap and his tongue seemed thick and sluggish. He gently pried open Merlin's mouth and poured a small amount of water in, noting how the very tissues of his mouth seemed to soak up the moisture instantly. He managed to get three small sips of water into the young man before he turned his head away mumbling incoherently.

Once Merlin's breathing settled back down into a fast shallow pant Arthur slid out from behind him and gently lowered him down onto the saddlebags again. Over an hour had passed and Arthur was getting more and more anxious. He stood up and added another piece of wood to the fire, then approached the forest on the other side of the glade.

"Please! I need your help. My friend has been injured, he's been poisoned. He will die without help. Please, I am begging you to help him!"

The only sound that answered his plea was the rustle of the leaves in the trees as the morning breeze blew through them. Arthur didn't know what he was going to do if the druids refused to help Merlin. If he tried to take him back to Camelot, he would surely die before they got there. Hanging his head, Arthur walked back to the fireplace, where Merlin lay, to sit and wait.

As he drew closer, he could see that Merlin was once again having trouble breathing and this time it was worse than before. Merlin's face had drained of all color and his lips were turning blue. He tried to sit up as he gasped frantically trying to draw in air. Arthur ran the last few feet to get to him and pulled him upright, sliding in behind him again. The young man's eyes flew open and were glassy and panic-stricken. The pupils were completely dilated making them look almost completely black rather than their normally bright blue color.

"Merlin! You have to try to calm down. Just try to breathe, Merlin. Merlin!"

Somewhere in the back of Arthur's mind, he knew that he should remain calm, but watching Merlin literally suffocate before his eyes and being powerless to help was more than he could stand. Suddenly Merlin's body went rigid; his eyes rolled up showing mostly white; his right hand clenched into a fist, his left hand too swollen even to close, and his whole body began to shake spasmodically. Then everything stopped. Merlin's eyes closed, his body went limp, and he stopped breathing altogether.

"Merlin! No, you have to breathe. Merlin!" Arthur shouted, as he laid the young man down.

Arthur stared down at his servant; his friend - the only true friend he could ever remember having. He was unnaturally still. His chest didn't rise and fall; his head rolled off to the side; his body limp as a wet rag.

It was too late; Merlin was dead.

The thought screamed in Arthur's mind, but the young prince couldn't bring himself to believe what his eyes were seeing. A scream ripped from his lips as he took hold of Merlin's shoulders and shook him.

"No! Merlin, you have to breathe. You cannot die! Please, just breathe!"

Hot tears rolled down Arthur's face as he shook Merlin desperately. He never even noticed the tall druid approach until his shadow blocked out the sunlight. When Arthur looked up his expression was a picture of agony as tears of fear and remorse flowed freely down his face.

"He stopped breathing! Please, help him; please, save him." Arthur begged of the man standing before him.

The tall man knelt down and placed his hand on Merlin's chest. After a moment, he moved his hand up to Merlin's forehead and he spoke words that had no meaning to Arthur. He assumed that they were some sort of spell or incantation from the old religion. The prince of Camelot didn't say a word; he only looked on holding his breath and praying that this would work. A moment later Merlin took a shuddering breath. It was the most wonderful sound Arthur had ever heard. It seemed an eternity, even though it was only a moment before Merlin took another breath and then another.

Arthur sat back on his heels and shook slightly as relief flooded through him. He had an overwhelming desire to weep, but he held his emotions tightly in check. After a moment he said, "Thank you." in a husky voice.

The tall man examined Merlin's wounded arm with a frown on his face. "What happened?"

Arthur tried to read the man's face to see if he thought he could help Merlin, but his face was carefully schooled to give nothing away. "This morning he was shot with a poisoned arrow. It must be over two hours ago by now." Arthur answered.

The druid looked up and past Arthur at the surrounding forest. "You are pursued by enemies?" he asked, sounding alarmed.

"No, it was a hunter. Sometimes hunters who are less skilled will use poison on their arrows to ensure a kill. It is a forbidden practice, but it is nearly impossible to enforce. I don't think the hunter saw Merlin when he shot the deer. Merlin was petting the deer at the time and the arrow went through the deer and into his arm."

The druid stared at Arthur with a curious look on his face. "He was petting a deer?"

Arthur smiled slightly at the memory. "It was the most extraordinary thing I have ever seen. The deer wasn't afraid of him at all. It walked right up to him and it allowed him to touch it."

The druid stood up and waved at hand toward the forest. Two more druids stepped out from the trees, simply seeming to materialize from thin air, although Arthur was sure that was just an illusion they used to make it look that way. They walked quickly forward at the tall man's beckon.

"We must get Emrys to the healer quickly. His condition is very grave; however you must remain here, Arthur of Camelot."

Arthur brows furrowed at the use on the name Emrys. It was obvious that the druid was talking about Merlin, but he didn't understand why he had called him that. What ever the reason it mattered little, for the only important thing was that this man would help his friend. The prince had risen with the druid and now stood resolutely in front of the man. "You know who I am, but I do not know you."

"My name is Barach. I am the leader of my community." the druid said, cautiously.

Arthur held out his hand in a gesture of welcome and said, "I'm pleased to meet you, Barach, but where he goes, I go."

Barach did not take Arthur's outstretched hand. He looked at the prince with hard and piercing eyes. "I cannot allow you to come to our camp, Arthur Pendragon. The last time you came to a druid community, too many of our people were killed."

Arthur kept his hand extended and stared right back at Barach. "I am very sorry about that. It was not my choice."

Barach didn't move at all. "There is always a choice."

Arthur stubbornly refused to withdraw his hand and held it out waiting for Barach to accept it in friendship. "Barach, you have no idea how much I wish that were true. Merlin is my servant.... he is my friend. Where he goes I must go. I will tell no one of your settlement. My only concern is for Merlin. You have my word."

Barach considered Arthur's words for a moment. Neither man was willing to back down, but he had to concede that Arthur had not threatened them in any way. His fear for the injured young man was genuine as was evidenced by his frantic cries for help and the tears tracks that still graced his face. Finally, Barach took a hold of Arthur's hand and shook it firmly.

Arthur felt relief course through him. He realized that he was in no position to insist, if he wanted them to help Merlin, and he was very glad that he didn't need to try to track them through the woods. That was an act that would clearly be seen by the druids as aggressive, but he was prepared to do exactly that if Barach hadn't accepted his hand in friendship and allowed him to accompany them.

The trek to the druid settlement was not very long. Merlin had been placed up on Arthur's horse and secured by some means that Arthur couldn't detect. Arthur led Merlin's mare by the bridle, and they walked through the dense forest until a thinning of the trees and the smell of smoke announced their arrival at the settlement.

The druid settlement had both a temporary and semi-permanent feel to it. Most of the structures were made out of fabric and resembled tents, but many of the tents also had roofs built above them or thatched siding covering the fabric walls lending them support and probably insulation from the harsher elements. This combination of fabric, wood, and thatching is what gave the semi-permanent feel to the place, not to mention the structures he saw built high up in the trees themselves with plank and rope bridges connecting them to one another. Many of the structures that were made of a combination of wood and tent material on the ground were built along the sides of the larger trees using the trees themselves as structural supports. It looked, upon quick inspection, as though the settlement and the natural wood of the forest were symbiotic using the natural landscape to its fullest to accommodate the daily lives of the people living here. Arthur could also see that, if it was necessary, it wouldn't take an enormous effort for the entire community to pull up stakes and move to another location.

Most of the druids were out and roaming around the little village. A few young children were running through the camp and around drying racks and cooking pits with tripod wooden supports for cooking pots that were scattered around the settlement in front of many of the tents. Women and men alike could be seen attending to the youngsters. The entire community looked no different than any of the villages throughout the kingdom with the exception that this particular community was clearly in hiding in the forrest and living a moderately nomadic life.

The horses were stopped and tethered on the edge of the settlement and the druids who came with Barach very gently pulled Merlin down from Arthur's horse and carried him to a large tent near the center of what could have been considered the village square. Arthur followed them closely, with Barach keeping pace beside him. When Arthur entered the tent, he was surprised to see how large it was on the inside. There were three low bed frames in the main portion of the tent. Arthur could see that a portion of the structure had been sectioned off, most likely as living quarters for the occupant. On one of the beds lay Jacob; he looked far better than he had when Arthur had seen him yesterday. He realized that this must be the living quarters and infirmary for the druid healer.

The druids carrying Merlin lay him down on one of the other beds and before Arthur could ask where the healer was, suddenly a small woman appeared beside the leader. He looked around quickly to see where she had come from, but the partition drape showed no signs of having been moved and the entrance to the tent was clearly in his view. He had not seen her when he entered behind the druids carrying Merlin, and felt slightly disconcerted that she was able to creep up so stealthily.

She walked right up to Arthur and stared up into his eyes. She had long slightly wavy dark hair, a soft and kind face, and deep brown eyes that held a palpable power. "What is it you ask of me, Arthur Pendragon?"

Arthur looked right back into her eyes and his voice never faltered. "I know what the law says about consorting with druids and I am willing to accept any ramifications for my decision to come here. I am requesting your help for my servant who was injured and poisoned. I am asking you to heal him?"

**End Chapter Six**

**No Cliffhanger this time - sorry. **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N -** Hi all. Sorry for the delay. The week before Easter was fraught with issues and almost no sleep meaning that all of this past week I spent sicker than a dog! I'm still sick but I got so many alerts and favorites list additions that I knew I needed to get this chapter up. I will warn you that this chapter will be one that you will either completely love or hate with a passion. Personally I'm kind of hoping for the former. Please enjoy and as always I welcome any feedback.  
Alice I

**Chapter Seven**

The healer took a moment to ponder what Arthur had said. He was clearly putting himself in a tenuous position. By coming here he was committing an act of treason against the king who also happened to be his father. He knew this, but he was willing to deal with any consequences were his actions discovered by the king. This was not what she would have expected from Arthur Pendragon, especially after what had happened during his last excursion into the forest. She decided that he was truly sincere and sat down next to Merlin to examine him. After a moment she looked up at Arthur and motioned for him to step closer.

"I am Nelora. Tell me everything that Emrys experienced after being poisoned. Every symptom that you can remember will help me to determine what poison was used, and will in turn help me to save him."

Arthur retold the story of how Merlin had been shot and of everything that happened to him. He tried to remember every symptom and even added to his retelling all of the facial expressions the boy had made. Once he was finished Nelora nodded and looked up at Barach. "I believe that a tincture of Belladonna was used. His condition is extremely serious."

"Nelora, Emrys must not die." Barach didn't raise his voice, but the tone held a command that even a king would be hard pressed not to obey.

The healer bowed her head before looking up again. "I will not fail him, Barach. Now everyone must leave."

Arthur looked as though he were about to object, but Barach simply held out his hand indicating that Arthur should precede him out of the tent. Arthur hesitated for another moment; then conceded. He had done what he set out to do. Merlin was now in the hands of a skilled healer. He could do nothing now but wait.

As Barach stepped out of the tent Arthur turned to him and asked, "You all keep calling Merlin, Emrys. Why?"

"That is his name among our people." The druid said, as he turned and began to walk away.

Arthur just stood in the same spot looking shocked by this announcement. After a moment he caught up with Barach. "Wait! Are you saying that Merlin is a druid?"

Barach stopped for a moment and faced Arthur. "Emrys is not a druid."

Arthur stared at him in confusion. "Then why do you have a name for him?"

Barach seemed to consider the question, but he didn't answer and he began walking again, indicating that Arthur should come along. He led him to one of the tents that was half made of wood, half of tent material and all of that built up against a huge oak tree that literally formed a portion of one side of the structure. Sitting out in front of the opening surrounded by several older children were two women, one of whom Arthur knew.

"Inalira!" Arthur exclaimed when he saw her.

The shock that registered on the young woman's face was almost comical. She glanced around looking a little frightened, but it was obvious that the prince was here as a guest.

"Sire, what are you doing here?" she asked, utterly bewildered to see him there. It was then that she noticed that Merlin was not with him. "Where is Merlin?"

The worry and fear for his servant that he had felt flashed across his features and judging by the look of alarm on her face, Inalira saw it clearly.

"He was injured by a careless hunter, and I found myself in the same situation that you did. He was injured badly enough that he would not have survived the journey back to Camelot."

The young woman's face fell at the news of Merlin's accident. "I am so sorry to hear that. Merlin is a good man and very kind. He helped me keep Jacob's fever controlled until help arrived. I would not be surprised if he ended up saving his life."

Arthur seemed somewhat surprised to hear that. Merlin hadn't mentioned anything about treating the man when he arrived back at camp the previous evening, but then again Merlin probably wouldn't see it as something to talk about. For an insufferably annoying idiot, Merlin was also very gracious and humble.

Barach stood by listening quietly to the exchange between Arthur and Inalira and when it seemed that they had reached an awkward silence he spoke. "You already know our guest," he said, and then he introduced the other woman sitting with Inalira. "This is Aenya. She is our teacher. Most of our older children take lessons from her during the day. Aenya has one of the larger tents and so she accommodates guests when we have them. I will ask you to stay here while I go and confer with the council of elders. Your presence here will have caused some disquiet within our community."

Arthur turned to Barach and nodded. He realized that these people had good reason to be wary of his presence among them, but there was nothing he could do about that other than to prove to them that they had nothing to fear from him. Aenya invited Arthur to sit with her and Inalira.

Once Arthur found a seat Aenya nodded at him and then turned her attention back to the children gathered around her and continued with the lesson they were having when Arthur and Barach interrupted. A boy about the age of eight or nine, by Arthur's guess, sat forward and asked a question.

"Why do we have to learn about growing flowers? I want to learn other things. I want to learn how to make the rain stop when we want to play or how to make the sun come up faster or go down slower. I don't really care about flowers growing." the boy said, in a petulant tone.

Arthur stared wide-eyed at the children and then back to Aenya. These children were learning to use magic.

A younger boy sitting toward the back hissed under his breath, "You can't make the sun go down and come up faster, anyone knows that."

Aenya's answer was even more surprising to Arthur than the boy's question had been.

"Joshua, it is true that the sun rising and falling is not something that can be changed, but you must show respect for those around you. Tambre's question was meant for me. Tambre, you must understand the balance of the world before you can even consider the enormous dangers and difficulty inherent with trying to change the delicate balance of nature itself. The earth exists in balance with all living things for they are all the children of the earth herself. You must first understand the magic of the earth, a magic that is older than any civilization. The magic of the earth that changes the seasons, that causes the rains to fall and the sun to shine, and yes the same magic that allows these flowers to grow."

Aenya held out a seed for the children to observe. "This seed is so tiny and when it is planted it is set deep in the soil of the earth."

When she said that she bent over a wooden box that had been placed in the middle of the children and filled with dirt along with three different plants at different stages of growth. She used her finger to hollow out a hole in the dirt near the end of the box where there didn't appear to be anything growing then she dropped the seed into the hole. "How many seeds stacked on top of each other do you think it would take to fill this hole to the top, Tambre?"

The child looked into the hole as did the other children. Arthur found himself also compelled to look.

"Hundreds I suppose. Why is that important?"

Aenya looked at the children to be sure they were all paying attention. "Now imagine that you are this seed. You, as yet, have not grown into anything." The children nodded, understanding the concept. "Now, Tambre, fill in the hole and pack it down." Aenya instructed.

The boy did as he was instructed and then looked up expectantly, drawn into the lesson even though he did not want to learn about flowers growing.

"The earth will nurture that seed. Water from rain will seep down and the magic of the earth will spring forth life into this little seed. The tiniest shoot will form buried under a hundred times its size in dirt. Remember you are the seed. You have begun to mature into a tiny shoot and yet to survive you must grow and climb through seemingly insurmountable amounts of dirt to reach the rays of the sun that will feed you allowing you to grow."

Aenya now directed the children to look at the small shoot that had broken free of its earthy tomb next to the seed she had just planted. "Do you see how small and fragile this shoot is? Go ahead and touch it carefully."

The children did as she bade. "Ask yourselves how something so tiny, so fragile, and so insignificant could defeat the odds against it and find its way to the beckoning sunlight?"

A young girl possibly only seven or eight years old answered this question. "It is the magic of the earth."

"That is correct, Syneta. The magic of the earth creates life; like this small shoot. The sunshine and the rain feed and nourish the shoot until it grows taller and stronger becoming the mature flower." she said, pointing to the fully developed flower at the other end of the box of dirt.

"Yeah but how does that have anything to do with the balance of the word?" Tambre wanted to know.

"Magic and life exist in a delicate balance, Tambre. Let me ask you this; do you feel sad when a fox kills the rabbit?"

Syneta answered before Tambre could say anything. "Yes. What did the rabbit do to the fox? It isn't fair!" the child insisted.

"What would happen if there were no foxes or any other natural predators of the rabbit?" Aenya asked, patiently.

Tambre sat forward determined to speak first. "Then we would have rabbits jumping around all over the forest!"

"That is right, Tambre. And what would happen when so many rabbits are born and live in the forest?" the teacher pressed.

"It would be wonderful. Pretty white tailed rabbits everywhere. I think that would be very nice!" Syneta said, glaring at the older boy.

"What would they eat, Syneta?" Aenya asked, Syneta.

This made the girl stop glaring at the boy and pause for a moment. "I suppose they would eat what any rabbit eats; leaves and flowers and that sort of thing."

Aenya nodded, but rather than saying anything she waited. She wasn't disappointed when Tambre spoke up directing his comments at Syneta rather than at the teacher.

"Right and with hundreds of rabbits hopping around all over the place eating everything in sight there wouldn't be anything left of the leaves and flowers and pretty soon all those rabbits would have nothing to eat and neither would we!"

Aenya smiled broadly, and even Arthur was impressed by the style of teaching that Aenya had employed. The lesson about the flower held more sway for him than the lesson of the rabbit and fox. As a hunter he instinctively understood the necessity of the natural balance between predator and prey. The fox kept the over population of rabbits down. As he thought about what Aenya was teaching these children he realized that Merlin could do with listening to this lesson as well. Arthur had never really considered what was behind a flower coming into existence, but he wasn't sure he would consider that magic. How was a flower making its way up through the earth magic any more than Inalira sitting beside him with a new life growing inside her body? In a short time a whole new person would enter this world.

"Magic takes many forms. Some of the most powerful magic doesn't seem like magic at all. The child growing inside Inalira is no less magic than the magic that allows me to put this box away." Aenya said, as she raised her hand and whispered a word that Arthur didn't understand. Her eyes flashed golden for a brief moment and the flower box rose from the ground and moved over to the entrance of the tent coming to rest next to two other flower boxes filled with mature flowers and herbs.

Arthur suddenly felt very uncomfortable, feeling that the woman beside him had read his mind. To be sitting next to a sorceress who was preforming overt magic made him want to get up and move, but a part of him knew that this was his father's teachings coming to the surface of his mind.

"Magic is simply another side of the natural world. It is no different from the mundane occurrences of night and day, light and dark, life and death. You can not master outward magic until you understand its basic nature."

As the lesson continued Arthur's mind wandered back to the flower box and the lesson Aenya was trying to teach these children. She explained magic as something natural and on par with things in the everyday world. She had used magic right in front of the crown prince of Camelot without fear because she truly believed it was no different than growing a flower in a garden box. This was a viewpoint that was so foreign to everything that Arthur had ever been taught that he was having some difficulty wrapping his mind around it. Arthur wondered if Aenya would consider Merlin's encounter with the deer this morning as a form of magic. The look of pure wonder on the young man's face was no less remarkable than a tiny shoot clawing its way to the earth's surface in search of sunlight.

Thinking about Merlin brought the concern for his friend back into sharp focus. He wanted desperately to go back to the healer's tent and see how the young man was faring, but he knew he had to stay here and wait.

It was past midday when Aenya dismissed her students so they could go home and get something to eat and see their parents. She rose gracefully and turned to Arthur and Inalira. "I will prepare some food for a midday meal."

Inalira automatically asked what she could do to help, but Aenya told her that she should rest and stay seated. Aenya turned to Arthur who had also risen and handed him a small bucket that was hanging from a hook by the entrance to the tent.

"I'm sure that our other guest wouldn't mind fetching some water from the stream. You are due to give birth any day Inalira and should not be carrying around buckets of water."

Arthur was utterly dumbfounded by the forwardness of this teacher. He agreed that Inalira should not be carrying around a bucket of water being so close to term, but he was shocked to his foundation that this teacher was treating him as a commoner, as her equal, by expecting him to do the work of a servant. Inalira looked scandalized by Aenya's actions and she rose quickly from her seat and made to take the bucket from Arthur while bowing her head at the same time.

"I can fetch the water, Sire."

Aenya raised her eyebrows at both of them but refrained from speaking.

"I wouldn't hear of it, Inalira. Aenya is right, you should rest. I'll just go and fetch the water." he said, a bit awkwardly and quickly turned to leave.

As Arthur walked through the settlement toward the river he noticed that more than a few people turned their heads and watched as he passed by, but their faces didn't seem to hold any malice toward him, only curiosity. The people who lived here were simple folks who were living simple lives in peace with the world around them. His father would have everyone believe that these druids were a band of evil outlaws who hid in the forest plotting the fall of Camelot, but his own eyes told him differently.

The druids were clearly a peaceful people whose only crime was the ability to use magic, but to hear Aenya speak, growing flowers was also a form of magic as well as having babies. Arthur shook his head at what he couldn't help considering a foolish notion. He wanted to be open minded about Aenya's views but he was having a great deal of difficulty with that. Whatever Aenya's views might be, it was clear that magic had not corrupted these people's souls. They lived with magic every day and used it as freely as they breathe, yet he saw no evidence what so ever that evil was harboring in the hearts of the people living here. As troubling as the circumstances were that brought him into contact with the druid people on such a close and personal level, he was still glad to have the opportunity to see for himself what the druid community was really like.

Aenya prepared a simple meal that was nonetheless quite tasty and after they had eaten Inalira needed to go inside the tent and lie down, as she appeared utterly exhausted. The children did not come back for any afternoon lessons, and Arthur suspected that the presence of two visitors might have had something to do with that.

Aenya came back to the front of the tent and sat down across from Arthur who was just sitting back and watching the activity in the settlement. She didn't say anything or try to interrupt his train of thought and was somewhat surprised when Arthur spoke to her.

"It's not the same." he said, without turning to face her.

"What isn't the same?"

This time Arthur did turn toward the woman and faced her directly. "Magic and the flowers and Inalira's pregnancy, all of it. It's not the same."

Aenya looked at him curiously and asked, "How so?"

Arthur had thought about this and he really wanted to understand her point of view, but she was going to have to explain it to him because no matter how much he tried, he simply couldn't see it from her perspective.

"You could give me a box of soil, a handful of seeds and the knowledge of what to do with them, and I could plant them and grow flowers, but what you did with that flower box; that was magic. I can grow flowers, but I can't move a flower box without touching it."

"Neither can you give birth to new life as Inalira will do soon, yet you do not consider her pregnancy as anything more magical than planting flower seeds and watching them grow." Aenya countered, reasonably.

Arthur frowned at her answer. He thought he understood what Aenya was trying to say, but he still didn't really believe or agree with it. "Magic is supernatural, growing flowers and having babies is not; if it were, then where would that leave someone like me?"

Aenya seemed to understand why he was having so much difficulty with the concept of the nature of magic. He had a point, but like her students if he didn't see or understand the fundamental concept of the mysteries of the world then he would never be able to understand the kind of magic that allowed her to move the flower box.

"Trying to look at magic from this perspective makes you feel small and powerless; as though you are insignificant even though you are a prince."

Arthur sat back a little feeling a bit uncomfortable with her assessment of his perceptions. "I wouldn't go that far. I'm not insignificant, but yes perhaps this point of view makes me feel... a little small."

Aenya face took on a very serious expression and her voice was earnest. "You are far from _'a little small'_. You are the once and future king. You possess, within you, the power to unite all the lands of Albion. Tell me, Prince Arthur, what magic exists that can accomplish such a feat? You may not be able to give birth to new life, or move a flower box ten feet with magic, but when you are king you will wield a power that will shape the minds, hearts and lives off all the people of this land, so no, Arthur Pendragon, you are most definitely NOT insignificant."

Aenya's words made a kind of sense to Arthur as well as making him feel a little better about this odd perspective on magic. He was about to discuss the subject with her further when he saw Nelora approaching and his heart constricted in fear. She had a serious look on her face and she was headed straight for him.

"I must speak with you, Arthur Pendragon." she said, in a grave voice.

**End Chapter Seven**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N- **Well I am finally feeling a bit better. Thanks for all the well wishes. Chapter nine is still being written. Having some trouble with the action scene. Don't worry it's coming - promise!

Sarah James, I wanted to answer your question but your review was unsigned so I'll do that here. You wrote: _Great story, I'm really enjoying it, but why did Aenya's eyes flash gold when she did the spell? That's always been show to be unique to Merlin and why he's so special. I hope you post another chapter soon._

I don't know if you have seen season two yet, but actually Merlin isn't the only one who's eyes flash gold. Morgana's eyes do the same, as do Morgause. I did not see the gold in Nimueh's eyes or Mordrid's eyes, but because it is being shown in other magic users I have come to believe that the show uses that as a queue for magic being used, and that is is not unique to Merlin. Thanks for the review and I'm glad you are enjoying the story.

Thank you all for such lovely reviews! I was very concerned that the magic lesson in the last chapter would come off as ridiculous or trite or just not particularly believable. I fussed over that bit and my betas are probably sick to death of me saying - Did this work for you; Does it sound stupid; and Are you sure??!! I'm really glad it worked. Thanks again and please enjoy chapter eight.  
Alice I

**Chapter Eight**

Arthur's gut tightened as he looked at the grave expression on Nelora's face. A face like that never had good news to share. "What is it? Is Merlin going to be all right? Were you able to counteract the poison?" His concern quickly became fear when she didn't answer immediately.

Aenya stood up and bowed to the Nelora before stepping inside of her tent to give them some privacy. Nelora moved over to Arthur and motioned for him to sit with her.

"I have treated the wound and given him an antidote to the poison, but he is not responding. Even if the poison were not Belladona, which I still believe it is given his symptoms, the antidote should have had more of an effect. His fever has come down somewhat, and his breathing is not as labored as when you first brought him to me, but that is the only real improvement that he has made. It is as though he has given up, and is welcoming death. I looked into his mind to try and find what could be causing this -"

Arthur stood up abruptly and interrupted the healer. "Wait! You can read his mind?"

Nelora sighed, realizing that she should have tried to find a simpler way to explain it to the young prince. She shook her head and motioned for Arthur to sit down again, which he did reluctantly. He didn't want this woman to read his mind.

"You misunderstand me; that is not what I do. I have never known any healer or seer who could pluck thoughts from someone else' mind. What I _can_ do is see images and sense emotions, but only things that are close to the surface. I do not always understand what I am seeing or feeling though, especially in someone who is gravely ill as Emrys is."

Arthur was intrigued despite himself and asked, "So you can't read his thoughts?" The woman shook her head. "Alright, so what did you see when you looked in Merlin's mind?"

Nelora seemed hesitant to speak for a moment, and Arthur could tell that she was choosing her words carefully. "I saw many images of you and could feel the emotions associated with those images."

Arthur frowned not really sure he wanted to know, but asked her anyway. "Can you share those images and emotions with me? Are you allowed to?"

"The emotions in association with you are very strong. They are connected to each other; intertwined, if that makes more sense. I sensed deep loyalty, but there were also feelings of pride, friendship, kinship and a driven need to protect you."

Arthur took a few moments to digest what she had said. He knew that he and Merlin shared a friendship that neither of them could really publicly display, but he would not have suspected the kind of emotions that Nelora was describing.

"The emotions associated with you are not what I am concerned about. I also saw an image of a girl wearing a purple dress. She has long black hair and dark eyes. I also see images of a lake with mountains behind it. The emotions associated with these images were overwhelming; nearly unbearable pain, grief, and sorrow that ran so deep I had to break away from my contact with Emrys or be swallowed by his emotions. Who is this girl, and what happened to her?"

Arthur's face paled as he remembered the conversation he had with Merlin the previous morning. "Freya."

Nelora shook her head puzzled. "Freya?"

"She is a girl that Merlin fell in love with. When she died it broke his heart. Her death was very recent and he confided in me yesterday that he had considered following her in death so that he could be with her forever. He said that it was only a transitory feeling brought on by grief, but I know that he still grieves for her loss. I didn't realize that his pain ran that deep."

Nelora was clearly not pleased to hear this news. "I must speak with Barach about this. If Emrys wishes to die, I do not believe there is anything I can do to stop it from happening. If he is unwilling to come back to this world, there is nothing more any of us can do."

Arthur most definitely didn't like the sound of that. "I cannot accept that. Merlin wants to live. Once he told me about Freya, he felt better; more at ease. I must speak to him. I can try to get him to wake up; to not give up. Please you must let me try."

Nelora nodded and stood up. "Emrys' bond with you is very strong. You may be able to reach him where I cannot. Come, follow me."

Nelora led Arthur back to her tent. When he entered he noticed that her other patient had been moved somewhere since he was no longer in the bed next to Merlin. Arthur's attention was drawn to the young man who lay unnaturally still and he knelt down next to the sleeping platform and took one of Merlin's hands in his own. Nelora was right, the fever had come down a bit, but he was still hotter than was normal. His face was deathly pale and his breathing, while no longer labored as it was earlier, was still shallow.

"I must go and speak with Barach. Talk to him, Arthur. Convince him that his work in this plane of existence is not yet finished."

* * *

Nelora stepped out of the tent and Arthur was left alone with Merlin. He looked at the young man lying on the bed and didn't know what he should do next. He only knew that if he didn't do something his friend was going to die. If not from the poison, he would die from the grief in his heart. Arthur wished he knew who Freya was. He could not recall ever seeing Merlin with this girl, but he must have.

As Arthur thought about it a strong feeling of guilt washed over him. He squeezed the hand he was holding tightly trying to let the young man know that he was there.

"I'm so sorry, Merlin. I have always been so wrapped up in my own life, my own problems, my own joys that I never took the time to notice what was happening in your life. You are a servant, that's true, but you aren't just any servant. You are _my_ servant, and I should have paid more attention to you."

Arthur rocked back on his heels, letting go of Merlin's hand and watched as it limply dropped to the bed. "I spend every day with you; in all honesty I spend more time with you than I do with pretty much anyone else, and yet I never knew about Freya. I never knew...."

Arthur stopped for a moment as fear, anger, frustration and regret battled for dominance. "Nelora said that you were in so much pain it almost overwhelmed her. Why? Why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't you tell me what you were going through? Why won't you trust me, Merlin?"

Arthur's voice raised with each question until he was almost shouting. He stood up and walked away from the bed for a moment trying to get his own emotions under control. Arthur tried to recall everything that had happened over the last few weeks. He pondered once again when he had started to notice a change in Merlin's behavior. If he had fallen in love then there must have been a period of time that Merlin was happy, and that would have shown.

As Arthur paced he decided to take it a step at a time working his way backward. The deep sense of melancholy showed up barely a week ago, he was sure of it. He remembered finding Merlin sitting on the floor polishing his boots and he sat down and spoke to him about it. That was the first recollection Arthur could bring to mind where Merlin showed this deep sadness and that had been five days ago. Before that Merlin seemed fine, teasing him about being fat, which he was _not_. That was when Halig was in Camelot with the druid girl.

The bounty hunter had lost the druid girl and was searching for the accomplice who had set her free. Halig had tried to hurt Merlin when he found him acting suspiciously. It was ludicrous of course, but then again Merlin did have his sausages, and a drumstick. Arthur turned at looked at the young man lying on the bed and he could see how thin he was. Perhaps Merlin was simply hungry. Arthur shook his head, that couldn't be it. Merlin could always get food from the kitchens if he needed to. He didn't seem upset after Halig left. He even smiled and quipped that he was trying to keep Arthur from getting fat. Then there was the missing cheese and meat from the morning. Merlin must have taken that as well, but why?

An uncomfortable thought began to emerge in Arthur's mind and he pushed it away. Halig was wrong; Merlin would never harbor the druid girl, but he was in an awful hurry to leave that morning, and he was distracted as well. Arthur remembered the pain of scaling his foot in the boiling bath water. He also remembered throwing an entire pitcher of water over Merlin to wake him up.

The next two days after that were a blur, what with the attacks in the lower town as well as the missing druid. He tried to remember seeing Merlin over the days that he was tied up looking for the beast hunting in the lower town and suddenly another memory came to him. Merlin walking down the hallway holding a dress. He said it was for Gaius. This was such an obvious lie. In all of the years Arthur had known the court physician he had never seen him dress in... well a dress; robes on occasion, but they were of a scholarly sort. Arthur couldn't help taking the opportunity to tease Merlin telling him that what he did on his own time was his own business. Oh how the young man had objected. It was classic. He even told him how much the color suited him.

Arthur had been pacing as he thought but stopped dead as a revelation occurred to him. The dress was purple. Didn't Nelora say that she saw images of a woman in a purple dress? The dress Merlin was carrying through the castle wasn't for Gaius, it was for Freya. That was it, that explained why Merlin was so distracted, it explained why he was in such a hurry to finish up his chores and get away from Arthur, it....

Then another thought occurred to Arthur, this one very uncomfortable. Was Merlin stealing Arthur's food for Freya? Why would he need to do that? Unless...

Arthur began pacing again much faster. He couldn't believe this. Merlin harboring a fugitive; Merlin falling in love with a druid; Merlin breaking the laws of Camelot! This couldn't be right. There is no way Merlin would risk doing something like that. There must be some other explanation.

It was the very next night that the druid girl was cornered and she turned into that beast; a huge black cat with wings. He had fought this beast, he had wounded it, badly. They never saw the thing again once it took to the sky. Arthur and his men looked everywhere for the beast but couldn't find it. He had assumed that he had dealt it a mortal blow.

The next morning Merlin never showed up with his breakfast, but Arthur had passed it off, having to leave and search of the wounded beast. By the time he did find Merlin later in the day sitting on the floor polishing his boots he could see the sadness in his friend. Everything fell into place and Arthur turned once again and stared at Merlin's pale face.

"Freya was the druid girl." he said out loud. It sounded ridiculous even to his own ears, but at the same time he knew it was true. Arthur stepped over to Merlin and knelt down next to the bed. The boy's breathing was shallow and quick. His brow was still hot with fever even though his skin was pale and dry. Arthur reached out tentatively and grasped Merlin's limp hand.

"Freya was the druid girl that escaped from Halig. _You_ helped her escape; you fell in love with her. Merlin, she could have killed you! You were going to run away with her? My God, Merlin what would you have done when she turned into that cat thing at the stroke of midnight? She would have torn you apart!"

The image of Merlin being ripped to shreds the way Halig had been made Arthur's stomach roil. He looked at Merlin and to his astonishment he saw a tear drop down the side of Merlin's face from beneath a closed lid.

"I killed her. You were in love with her and I killed her. It's no wonder you wouldn't tell me about this. I'm sorry, Merlin, truly I am. I had no choice. She was cursed, Gaius told me about it. He said that the curse condemned her to turn every night; that she couldn't help herself, but she still killed people. You can't follow her to the next world, Merlin. You must stay here, you must fight. Please, I know you can hear me. You belong here, you are needed here."

Arthur didn't know what should have happened, he only knew that he wanted to see some kind of response from Merlin; some way to know that he had reached him, but the young man just lay there; even his escaped tear had dried up. Frustration welled up inside the young prince and he reached over and grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and shook him; hard.

"Damn it, Merlin. It's time to stop this and wake up!"

Arthur let go of him very quickly horrified at what he had just done. He was meant to help Merlin wake up; to come back from the brink of death not push him over the edge.

"I'm sorry. Please, Merlin, I really am sorry that I... I'm sorry about Freya, but you need to come back. Gaius needs you, and Gwen." Arthur lowered his voice to a bare whisper, yet his words held powerful feelings. "Merlin, _I_ need you."

* * *

Nelora was very disturbed by what Arthur had told her. Love was a force more powerful than any magic, and the loss of it could be utterly devastating. She knew that the bond between the young prince and Emrys was very strong for she had felt it herself; she only hoped it was strong enough to bring Emrys back from the edge of the next plane. The healer made her way quickly through the heart of the settlement and found Barach just leaving the council of elders at the western edge of the settlement.

The only structure at ground level that was made entirely of wood and had a permanent feel, was the council chamber. It was ten feet high and square with an opening in the front that was half as wide as the entire width of the building. There was no door but the interior of the room was deep, and the structure was built at an angle against the side of a hill with a stand of birch trees twenty feet in front of it. The construction was very basic, but the angle and placement of the structure was ingenious. The natural landscape allowed for a open room that would have very little heavy wind blowing directly into it. There was a large fireplace against the left wall of the building with the only stone chimney in the entire settlement jutting out through the roof.

Nelora walked right up to Barach and continued past him as she spoke. "I must speak with you, Barach, and the council."

Barach turned and followed the healer as she stepped into the council chamber. The rest of the elders were preparing to leave for their own shelters when they saw her enter and stand before the assembled benches. The seriousness on her face caused the men and women of the council to go back to their seats to hear what Nelora had to say.

"Emrys is dying." she said, without preamble once everyone was settled again.

This announcement produced a stir amongst the elders and Barach stood up to speak. "Emrys must not die. You said that Belladonna was the poison used; surely you can cope with this."

"The problem is not the wound or the poison. The problem is with Emrys himself. He has given up. He may no longer wish to remain in this world."

Barach was shocked by this statement and he looked pointedly at Nelora. "Have you seen this?"

Nelora knew that Barach was asking if she had looked into Emrys' mind. "I have seen the woman Emrys loves. I felt the emotional repercussions her death caused him. What is more disturbing is that Emrys confided in Arthur that he had considered following her in death to be with her. I know that I do not need to tell you all how dangerous this situation has become. If Emrys no longer wishes to live in this plane of existence there is nothing more that _I_ can do for him."

The implication in her voice was not lost on any of the elders or Barach who spoke first. "Obviously you feel there is still hope. If _you_ can not help him than who can?"

Nelora took a moment to make eye contact with each of the elders before she spoke. "I believe that Emrys' only hope at this point lies with Arthur Pendragon. The bond between them is very strong. Emrys is aware of his destiny and its connection with Arthur, but their connection goes deeper than that."

Barach exchanged glances with several of the elders seated in the chamber before turning back to Nelora. "You speak of the bond between Emrys and the prince. What did you see?"

"Faith." The one word answer confused one of the elders sitting toward the back.

"Faith?" he queried, uncertainly.

Nelora nodded her head. "Yes, Araben, _absolute_ faith. I have looked into Emrys' dreams; I have felt the emotions coursing through his heart; I have listened to his fevered murmuring; and I have come to understand that he truly believes in Arthur. He trusts the young prince with more than his own life, but the lives of all the people of Albion. He may not know the prophecy, but he believes in it with every fiber of his soul. Emrys would move mountains for Arthur or willingly die for him."

Nelora's words had a distinct impact on everyone gathered and the elders began murmuring amongst themselves. Barach stepped to the front of the chamber and stood beside Nelora waiting for the rest of the elders gathered to quiet down and give him their attention.

"Everyone here knows the importance of the prophecy, but if Emrys dies; the prophecy dies with him."

"What do you suggest, Barach?" Araben asked.

"I suggest we use the connection between Arthur Pendragon and Emrys. If what Nelora says is true, and I am sure it is, then Emrys would respond to a credible threat to the prince."

Nelora moved away from Barach with anger etched all over her face. "No, Barach! Arthur is with Emrys now, and I am hopeful that he can reach him."

"We cannot take the chance that Arthur's efforts will be unsuccessful. We must reach him through the depths of his grief and this is the only way to do that."

The elders began whispering to each other as Nelora and Barach faced each other; neither willing to back down. Finally Araben spoke up again. "What is it that you are proposing, Barach?"

Barach did not face Araben when he answered the old man's question. His eyes were locked on Nelora's when he said, "Arthur Pendragon must die."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N -** Sorry about the delay, but the good news is chapter ten is finished and with the betas now. Woo Hoo. I have not yet started on eleven but it's coming along. Thanks again for all the lovely reviews.

**Chapter Nine**

The anger Nelora felt was palpable, and she positioned herself in the middle of the opening so that she was blocking the only exit somewhat. "This is foolishness! By doing this you put not only this community, but all druid communities at risk. Arthur Pendragon is the future king and right now his mind is open to accepting magic, but that will be destroyed if you try to kill him."

Barach stepped up to Nelora and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "If Emrys dies and the prophecy dies with him, the future will be no different. We have made our decision, Nelora." With that he moved her aside and stepped out into the late afternoon light.

As the rest of the elders passed her in silence she glared at them shaking her head. When Araben drew even with her he stopped; his old and weathered face unreadable. He raised wrinkled and frail hands to her face holding it between them gently. "Nelora, you are the most skilled healer I have known in all of my long years. I felt hope wither when you said that Emrys was dying. It is true that Barach's plan will put us all at risk, not only from the seat of power in Camelot, but from Emrys himself should this work, but I believe that it is a risk we must take. You need to have faith in Barach; he will not allow the unthinkable to happen."

Nelora looked back into the Araben's wise old eyes, and for a glimmer of a moment she believed him, but she simply could not sanction this course of action. "Araben, you must know and record that I oppose this decision. I have never doubted Barach before."

"Then do not doubt him now, child."

"All I have are doubts, Araben. This is not something I can accept. I am a healer, I do not take life, nor can I sanction the taking of life, even for a greater purpose. I cannot be a part of this, Araben. I am telling you this now; if the council does this, I will leave."

Araben stood back from Nelora, a deep sadness shadowing his features. "Then it is a sad day for all of us. You must do what you feel is necessary, as must we all."

With a heavy heart Araben turned away from the healer and walked toward the center of the community.

Arthur was sitting quietly next to Merlin's bed when several druids including Barach stepped into the tent. Arthur stood up to face the newcomers and felt his stomach tighten at their grim faces. The prince watched as the men continued into the tent; his fighter's instincts kicking into high gear as he took note that each of these men were large and heavily muscled. None of them carried weapons, but Arthur's hand automatically sought out the hilt of his sword as the men took up flanking positions while Barach walked up to face him directly.

"What is going on?" Arthur asked, trying to keep his voice calm even as his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

The barest nod was the queue the druids surrounding Arthur were looking for and they quickly converged on the young prince, but Arthur was expecting it and had his sword out and ready for a fight before any of the men laid hands on him. "What are you playing at, Barach?"

The druid leader raised his hand toward Arthur causing the young man to grip his sword tighter and crouch for attack.

"Forhanbban." the leader whispered, and suddenly Arthur found himself frozen in place.

Arthur couldn't believe that the druid leader had used magic on him. His anger flared as he shouted at the man. "Let me go, Barach! You have no right to detain me; I've done nothing to any of you."

Barach nodded to his men again and they stepped up to either side of Arthur, removing his sword and binding his hands behind his back. The magical restraint melted away once his arms were securely tied with strong leather straps.

In a quiet voice that almost sounded regretful Barach said, "You should not have come with us, you should have stayed at the clearing in the forest."

The regret that shown in Barach's eyes confused Arthur and he tried to appeal to his sense of compassion. "I have always been told that druids are evil because they were users of magic, but I have seen for myself that not to be true. I have always been taught that magic corrupts the soul of those who posses it, but you and Aenya have shown me differently. Will you change that perception now?"

The men holding Arthur's arms tightly exchanged uncertain looks with their leader who also seemed pained by what was happening. For a moment Arthur thought that he had reached the man, but then Barach stood a little taller with determination on his face, and in a loud and clear voice he spoke. "Arthur Pendragon, the council of elders have come to an accord. You are guilty of murder among our people."

Arthur's mouth dropped open in shock and he was about to protest the accusation, but Barach continued before he could say anything. "You and your men came into this forest and slaughtered every druid in our sister encampment. Innocent men, women, and children have died at your hands."

"I was acting on the orders of the king, Barach! Your people kidnapped the king's ward! How did you expect him to react?" Arthur shouted back, as he struggled to free himself from the bonds and the men restraining him.

"We are a peaceful society, Arthur Pendragon; we do not _kidnap_ people. Judgment has been pronounced. You will be burned at the stake at sundown. Take him away."

Arthur wasn't going to go down without a fight. The two men holding his arms were large and strong, but he could tell that they were not natural fighters. He could not get his arms free of their restraining hold so he used it to his advantage and jumped up with both feet kicking outward and viciously connecting with Barach's chest.

The druid leader flew backward as Arthur's full weight made the surprised druid men on either side of him loose their grip on his arms. He fell heavily on the edge of the bed Merlin was lying in, jostling the young man which elicited a weak moan that no one but Arthur heard. Pain seared through the prince's back with the impact, but he ignored it, rolling forward and to the side. As he rolled he brought his arms lower down his back and past his hips using the momentum to slip his legs through and bring his tied arms around in front of him.

Before Arthur could make it up and onto his feet one of the larger druid men landed heavily on top of him trying to pin him to the floor of the tent, but Arthur rolled quickly throwing the man off. As he spun round to his back he kicked upward at the next man approaching him with a solid blow to the jaw while he continued to twist his body and brought his tied wrists down with tremendous force on the chest of the druid who had tried to pin him to the ground knocking the wind out of him.

Barach was just making it to his feet as Arthur jumped up in one smooth motion. Two more druid men, smaller than the first two, rushed at the prince who jumped up grabbing the cross bar used to section off the private quarters of the healer, and kicked out with force connecting with one of them sending him flying backward into his companion causing both to crash the floor of the tent in a heap. Arthur dropped lightly back to the ground and dropped to his backside rolling under the separating barrier into Nelora's private area. He gained his feet quickly and bolted for the side wall of the tent intent on escaping under the fabric wall.

He had to hurtle the healer's bed and literally dive at the floor to roll under the side wall of the tent. The momentum of his dive tore the stakes out of the ground holding the side walls of the tent in place and nearly took that section of the tent down. Another sharp pain ripped through Arthur's back as he rolled across the stakes carving a gash across his flank, but he hardly noticed as his eyes scanned the area for the quickest escape route he could find.

Shouts were issuing from inside the tent as the stunned druid leader and his men regained their feet and ran from the healer's shelter in pursuit. Arthur gained his feet quickly and turned in the direction the horses were tethered. The commotion had caused the once peaceful camp to come alive with shouts and confusion which Arthur tried to use as a diversion. He made a mad dash for the other side of the encampment jumping over or around obstacles and people running out of their shelters to find out what the ruckus was all about.

As Arthur darted around the side of one of the tents near the border of the camp he saw the horses forty yards away and ran full pelt toward them, but didn't get very far as a blaze of pain and white light blinded him before darkness descended like an anvil over him. An elderly woman with a shock of white curly hair stepped out of the tent holding a heavy metal cooking pan just as Arthur rounded the edge of the structure. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, but didn't even have time to duck as she raised the pan up and clocked him across the side of his head.

The young prince of Camelot dropped like a stone; felled by a woman old enough to be his grandmother with nothing more than a cooking pan.

A voice reached out to Merlin through the haze of pain and confusion. He was longing to hear _her_ voice, but this wasn't it. The voice he heard was masculine and familiar, but he couldn't quite remember who it belonged to. He knew it was important but he was so very tired. '_Why won't you trust me, Merlin?'_ The voice sounded angry and maybe even a little bit scared. He didn't want that voice to be scared. Somehow it was important that he sooth the voice, but he couldn't remember how or why.

He felt something - a connection - as if a warmth had enveloped his hand. The voice was back and filled with something; was it concern, or frustration? _'You helped her escape; you fell in love with her. Merlin, she could have killed you!'_

He didn't know how, but Merlin knew that this disembodied voice was talking about her. The voice was wrong; Freya would never have harmed him. He wasn't afraid of her, he couldn't be. She was the one person he could be completely honest with. She was the only person he had ever met who didn't judge him for who he was. He desperately longed to hear her voice and as if summoned by his own need it came to him. Hers was different than the first voice; farther away, insubstantial somehow in comparison, yet the impact it had was powerful. _'You've already saved me, Merlin. You made me feel loved.'_

A desolate despair filled his whole being at the sound of her voice. More than anything Merlin wanted to go to that voice, but something was holding him back. There was something he was supposed to do, but he was so tired. He didn't have the strength to do anything.

The first voice, the one that seemed so much closer spoke again and this time there was no anger in it, only regret. _'I killed her. You were in love with her and I killed her.' _Those words caused a switch to flip in his mind and suddenly Merlin knew the voice now. It belonged to Arthur. He was supposed to protect Arthur, but the prince wasn't here in this place of mist and shadow. Merlin was floating in an abyss of pain and sorrow and had no idea where he was supposed to go. He wanted to follow Freya's voice, but every fiber of his being was telling him to let her go, to find Arthur, but he had no idea how.

He tried calling out to Arthur but the prince couldn't hear him. Freya's voice had faded into the abyss and he could no longer hear it. A part of him wanted to block out Arthur and his destiny. That part wanted to drift through the abyss and find Freya; find her voice again, and stay wrapped up in the love and warmth that voice provided. Those thoughts were washed away when a new voice reached him. This voice was one he knew he had never heard before, but what it said forced Merlin to turn away from the mist and abandon any thoughts of following Freya through the abyss.

'_Arthur Pendragon, the council of elders have come to an accord. You are guilty of murder among our people.'_

Merlin felt frantic as he realized that Arthur was in trouble. He needed to save him, but he didn't know where Arthur was. He tried to follow the sound of the unfamiliar voice, but it existed beyond the swirling mist that seemed to surround him. He tried to run toward the voice through the mist, but in this place nothing worked as it should. He couldn't run when his feet were not standing on anything solid. He reached toward the voice, but once again nothing worked as it should.

'_Judgment has been pronounced. You will be burned at the stake at sundown.'_

Panic gripped Merlin's heart. He needed to find Arthur now. He forced the panic aside knowing that he needed to get to Arthur, but he couldn't walk or run or even reach out to him. Merlin decided that since nothing worked the way it was supposed to work in this place he would try something that shouldn't work. He remained very still and tried to focus all of his concentration on willing himself to find Arthur. To his amazement he felt something shift in the reality of what surrounded him. He didn't know how, but he was moving through the mist now.

Suddenly pain erupted all around Merlin and he heard a low moan. It took him some time to realize that the moan had come from him because it also sounded distant like the voices of Arthur and his accuser. There was noise surrounding him, several voices now reached through the mist as though he were listening to a distant battle. He heard children laughing, he heard a woman singing, he heard people talking and shouting. The confusion and cacophony of it all served to make Merlin feel like he was spiraling out of control. He had to find Arthur's voice and block out all of these other voices. It was Arthur he needed to find, but blackness enveloped him in a wash of shouts and deafening noise.

The deep throbbing in his head is what finally caused Arthur to crack open his eyes. The sun was low on the horizon and that made him very uneasy for some reason. He attempted to reach up with his hands to hold his aching head but found that he couldn't. He tried again and his eyes opened wide in shock as he remembered what was happening. Arthur was sitting on a very small square platform with a tall stake extending up from the center. His arms were tied securely behind him around the stake. A huge thatch and wood pile was built up around the stake and what looked like the entire druid community was gathered around him. Arthur pulled his legs back and pushed up against the platform bringing himself up to a standing position. His head throbbed unmercifully as he stood, but he hardly took notice. He could see the healer's tent directly in front of him and knew that Merlin lay dying inside which filled him with sadness. Several men came into view carrying torches and Arthur's mind froze as he felt fear wrap icy fingers around his heart. The men walked over to the wood pile beneath Arthur's platform and took up positions around it.

For a moment Arthur couldn't breathe. He looked into the faces of the people who had gathered to watch him die. Most held solemn expressions, but he did see a few who had a gleam of excitement in their eyes as though anticipating a spectacle for their entertainment. This is what Gaius felt as he stood before the crowd tied to the stake awaiting his own death. This is what they all saw and felt before his father had pronounced judgment.

Arthur looked to the left and saw Barach standing on a raised platform. He was staring intently at the healer's tent as if waiting for something, then he turned and looked at Arthur with his hand raised. For that instant he didn't see Barach or the druid settlement. What Arthur saw was his father standing on the battlement, hand raised in judgment ready to give the order to light the fire underneath his feet. A fear that Arthur had never felt before in his life grabbed a hold of him and tears of regret welled up in his eyes. He had stood by and watched as his father had ordered execution after execution sometimes on hear-say alone. Arthur had committed no crime other than to follow the orders of his king and yet here he was about to die a horrible death. How many users of magic had died this way for the crime of being able to use magic? How many of those people had committed no crime against their king or Camelot?

Barach's hand dropped and the men holding the torches set them to the pile. The flames grew quickly licking upward like vicious snakes devouring everything they touched. The heat reached Arthur long before the flames would. He struggled to free himself from the bonds holding him but they were tied too tightly. There were shouts and some screams from the crowd gathered as the wood pile became engulfed. He heard a few jeers from the back of the crowd and he heard some of the women crying and a primal fear course through his body as he faced his death.

Suddenly all of the screaming and crying and shouting from the crowd stopped and the only sound left was the crackling of the flames that were now mere inches from the platform he stood on. Arthur looked up and to his astonishment he saw a figure stumble from the entrance of Nelora's tent. It was Merlin. He staggered forward and had to catch himself before he fell; wrapping his right arm around the trunk of a slender tree. He looked up at Arthur through the flames growing higher and higher and raised his bandaged left arm up, his hand extended to the sky.

"I'll not allow you to hurt him!"

Arthur stared in shock at his servant's words, but that was nothing compared to what he felt when Merlin's eyes glowed brilliant gold and a peel of thunder louder than anything he had ever heard before shook the forest. Heavy rain began to fall in huge drops soaking everything in its deluge. The fire began to sputter as great billowing clouds of smoke and steam rose up from the pyre. In only moments the flames diminished to nothing but a flicker and died. The ropes holding Arthur loosened and slipped down off of his arms as he stood stunned beyond belief at his friend. Anger, betrayal, and even fear washed through Arthur at the realization that the one person who was closest to him was a sorcerer. All of the time they had spent together had been a lie. Merlin had lied to him from the start and he had never even seen it.

None of the druids had moved, no one made any kind of attempt to contain Arthur as he jumped down from the platform over the dying embers of the fire that was meant to kill him. The people who had been standing directly in front of the fire had moved to the side when Merlin appeared and Arthur had a clear path directly to him. The rain began to slacken as Merlin dropped to his knees still clinging to the tree that supported him. The golden hue in his eyes faded back to a normal color and the boy's head and arm dropped as he collapsed against the tree he still clung to.

The rain stopped, and Arthur stood momentarily frozen, not knowing what he should do. He was surrounded by enemies and the only person he thought he could trust had been lying to him from the moment they met. A small part of Arthur's mind tried to reason with him, saying that Merlin couldn't very well tell him the truth. Arthur glanced back at the platform he had just been tied to. He remembered the heat of the flames that were perilously close to burning him alive and the feeling of stark terror at that fate, then he looked back at Merlin who was barely holding onto consciousness, slumped against a tree. Merlin, the young servant who had just saved his life; Merlin the man who faced an entire community of magic users in a state of near death only to boldly state that he would not allow them to harm Arthur. Seeing Merlin, perhaps for the first time, he gazed at a small, weak, and utterly loyal servant and it galvanized him into action. Arthur ran straight to Merlin and reaching a strong arm around the boy's waist he hauled him up to his feet.

"Come on, Merlin, we need to get out of here now." Arthur hissed in his ear. Arthur ran for the horses practically carrying Merlin along. There was no one with a cooking pan in his way now, as everyone had gathered in the center of the settlement to watch him die. Arthur got to the horses unhindered and the first thing he did was take out his other sword from the scabbard fastened to the side of his saddle. Merlin was barely holding his own weight on wobbly legs and Arthur knew he needed to get him up on his horse and fastened there quickly. With his sword in one hand and Merlin supported under his other arm he moved around to Merlin's mare.

"Come on, Merlin, we have to get you up on the horse. Try to stand up."

Merlin raised a pain filled, fever ridden face up to Arthur. The prince couldn't tell if he saw tears running down the young man's face or rain droplets from his soaked hair.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." was all he said, before closing his eyes and surrendering to unconsciousness.

"Merlin, NO! We're almost there. Hang on, please you can't give up now."

Arthur wasn't sure when he stopped being shocked by the revelation that Merlin was a sorcerer, or when he stopped feeling angry and betrayed, but all he saw now was his friend hanging limply from his arms; his friend who needed his help, and he would not fail him, not again. Arthur was about to bodily lift the young man up and onto his horse when he heard the footsteps behind him. He had no choice but to let Merlin slip to the sodden earth as he turned to face Barach and his followers approach.

Positioning himself between the recumbent form of his friend and the druids nearing him he crouched into a defensive stance ready to fight to the death if necessary. "I won't let you hurt him, Barach!"

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N- **To proactively answer some questions that might crop up -

There are warlocks, sorcerers, mages, enchanters and enchantresses, witches, high priests and priestesses, dragon lords and druids, and all of these titles of magic users have different definitions - some of which don't always agree. For this story I have chosen to use the terms that the BBC uses in the show and the definitions of those terms as I have gleaned from watching it. This may be strictly incorrect, but for the purposes of this being a story based in the world of the BBC's Merlin that is the route I have chosen to go. Thanks I hope you enjoy the chapter and as always thanks for your reviews.

**Chapter Ten**

Barach smiled at the fact that Arthur had just uttered almost the exact same words that Emrys had. The bond between them was indeed as strong as Nelora had described. Barach had never doubted the healer and that is why he knew that Arthur would never have actually faced the flames. He was only waiting to hear from Jaylen who was watching Emrys for a sign that he was waking, and he would have doused the flames himself. He had not expected Emrys to emerge from his comatose state with enough force to knock out Jaylen and rescue Arthur himself.

'_What shall we do, Barach?'_ one of his men asked through their telepathic link.

Before Barach answered Arthur addressed him. "Just let us go, and I give you my word that Camelot will not seek retribution."

Barach sent out a mental instruction to his men telling them to take Arthur's sword and place it in the scabbard on his saddle but not to hinder him in any other way. As he thought this he whispered "Forhanbban," freezing Arthur in place again.

* * *

As soon as Arthur felt the enchantment immobilize him again he screamed at Barach. "No! Don't do this, Barach. I gave you my word!"

Barach ignored Arthur as he stepped around him and knelt down next to Merlin. One of the druid men walked up to Arthur and took his sword from his hands. Arthur's hardly noticed this as he tried to see behind him at what Barach was doing to Merlin.

"Leave him alone, Barach. He's done nothing to you."

The magical restraint dissappeared and Arthur staggered as he suddenly had control of his body again. He spun around and watched as the druid who had taken his sword replaced it in his scabbard and said something causing the sword hilt to glow slightly before once again looking perfectly normal. Arthur pushed past the man and tried to remove the sword, only to find that it wouldn't slide out of the scabbard. It was now frozen in place just as he had been.

He abandoned his attempts to retrieve a weapon assuming that all of his weapons would have suffered the same fate as his sword. He purposly walked past the gathered men who did nothing to try and stop him and walked up behind Barach who was turning Merlin over to his back.

"I said leave him alone!" Arthur shouted. He reached down to pull the druid leader away from his friend, but he could not get within a foot of the man. He seemed to hit some sort of invisable barrier surrounding him.

"To be able to harness such power at this age is remarkable. He is completely untrained and yet he commands the ancient magic as though it were a mere extension of himself." Barach turned his head and looked up at Arthur. "You have no idea who your friend is, and yet you would die for him and he for you. That is almost as remarkable as the unfathomable power housed within him."

Barach gathered Merlin in his arms and stood. He nodded to his men who all turned away from Arthur and walked back to the camp with Barach carrying Merlin. Arthur was hesitant for only a moment and then he followed the group wondering at the peculiar turn of events. These same people who were hell bent on killing him only a few minutes ago now paid him no attention at all. Even as he walked through the encampment no one seemed to pay him any heed. These were the same faces that he had seen gathered around to watch him burn to death, and now they didn't even acknowledge his prescence among them.

Barach took Merlin back to Nelora's tent and lay him gently on the bed he had once occupied. On the other bed lay a man Arthur didn't recognise except that he was clearly one of the druid people. He wondered briefly what had happened to him, but his focus was drawn back to Merlin as Nelora stepped into the tent. She had a strange expression on her face that Arthur couldn't quite figure out, but it was clear to him that she was not happy with Barach. To his astonishment she walked up to him and touched the side of his face. Her eyes held tenderness and compassion.

"I am most pleased to see you unharmed, Prince Arthur." She turned her head in the direction of Barach and said "Not every memeber of this community agreed with the decision reached by the council." Then she turned back to Arthur and said to him in a voice that carried to every man in the tent and most likely beyond. "This is my tent, and my home; while you are within these walls you are safe from any harm. I am granting you sanctuary here, Arthur Pendragon, and no one here would dare challange that covenant."

Arthur raised his eyebrows at what she said but felt much better. Nelora had obviously not wanted to see him executed, but what was confusing him was the fact that neither Barach nor this council of elders seemed interested in their '_decision_' anymore either. All of the focus was on Merlin. Just as he was pondering this unexpected turn of events Barach stood up and addressed Nelora.

"Nelora, please listen." he said, and then he didn't say anything else as he stared into her eyes. After a moment Nelora nodded stiffly and stepped over to the bed where Merlin lay.

Barach turned to Arthur addressing him directly. "Arthur Pendragon, please understand you have nothing to fear from us now. I am very sorry that you had to suffer the way you did, but you must be made to understand that it was necessary. I give you my promise that no one will try to harm you. If you would be willing, please come with me to the council chambers so that what happened here today can be explained."

Arthur was not inclined to trust Barach after almost being burned alive and he turned to Nelora. The healer looked back at him and nodded her head. Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and studied Barach for a moment. "I want my sword returned to me before I set foot outside this tent with you, Barach."

Barach nodded his head toward one of the men who had followed him into the tent and the man quickly left. "That seems only fair considering what you must be feeling at the moment, but I do give you my word that no harm will befall you."

"Forgive me for not believing you, Barach. Nearly being executed has that kind of effect on my trust." Arthur replied, sarcastically.

A moment later the druid who had left re-entered the tent and handed Arthur's sword to him. It was the sword he usually carried on his person, the one they took from him when they first tried to arrest him, and not the one frozen in its scabbard on his saddle. Arthur pulled the sword out and checked it for damage; satisfied, he slipped it back into its scabbard and belted it around his waist. Only then did he willingly walk toward the tent opening, but before he left he turned back to Nelora.

"Thank you for taking care of him, and for trying to protect me, Nelora."

She nodded in reply and went back to cleaning the mud from Merlin's face and arms. "Barach, leave someone to help me with Emrys." she commanded. Arthur was surprised to see the leader immediately comply with what was clearly an order given by this healer.

As Arthur and Barach walked through the settlement the men who had accompianied the leader moved off in different directions. Fires were being lit outside the tents and within the more permanant wooden structures. He distinctly smelled food cooking and realized that it was past sundown and dinner time. Eating was the last thing on Arthur's mind.

Barach led him to the council chamber, such that it was, and stepped through the wide opening. A fire had been lit in the fireplace and several candles were placed on plated spits around the room giving it adequate light. Before him sat a dozen people, most of whom were elderly, but he did spy a couple that were closer to his father in age.

Barach indicated a pair of benches placed in front of the gathered council, but rather than sitting down like some sort of accused criminal, Arthur took up a spot behind the farther bench standing to face the council.

There was silence in the room as Arthur glared at each face in turn. He was still soaked through from the drenching rain that Merlin had created to save him and yet he could still feel the heat from the flames. The fact that these people no longer seemed to want to kill him made no difference in his mind. They were clearly fearful of Merlin. Arthur had to admit that he also felt some trepidation. The fact that his servant; no, he corrected himself, his friend; could command the weather itself was beyond frightening to the young prince. With that kind of power at his disposal Arthur couldn't fathom why Merlin worked for him as a servant, but none of that mattered at the moment.

An elderly man sitting near the back stood up and wove his way through the assembled benches until he was standing in front of the council and facing Arthur. "My name is Araben. You should know that we would not have allowed the flames to actually harm you, Arthur Pendragon. Your future is tied to Emrys' future."

Arthur didn't really know what to expect from these people. The events of the last two hours had been so alien to him that he was utterly confounded, but this ancient man was telling him that he was never meant to die today sounded a lie to him.

"Then why in the hell did you tie me to a stake and set the pyre alight? If it wasn't for Merlin I would be dead, so forgive me if I don't believe you! I think that you were as shocked as I was when Merlin staggered out of that tent. I think you are all afraid of him, and that is why you won't try to kill me now."

Araben didn't flinch at all as Arthur shouted at him. He simply waited patiently until Arthur finished. "It was _for_ Emrys that we did this to you. When Nelora came to us and told us that Emrys was dying we were fearful of the future. He has a powerful bond with you and we knew that if you faced a mortal danger he would come back from the brink of death to save you. You must understand who Emrys is to understand what we did and why."

Arthur dropped his arms to his sides as his mouth opened in utter stunned amazement. "Are you people insane? You nearly killed me so that Merlin would wake up? What the hell would have happened if he didn't wake up?"

Arthur was torn between wanting to laugh at the ridiculous stunt these people had pulled and being absolutely furious with them for doing it.

"I understand your mistrust as it was you who had to suffer the consequences of this decision, but it _did_ work; better than we hoped it would. Nelora was right about Emrys' feelings for you. His faith in you is absolute. I had some doubts about that, but no longer."

Arthur shook his head completely lost. "What _are_ you talking about?"

"This may take some time to explain, please sit down." Araben asked, as he stepped forward and sat on the bench next to the one Arthur was initially led to.

Arthur stood where he was for a moment longer then relented and sat down turning halfway so that he was facing both Araben as well as the rest of the gathered council. Before these people could fill his head with a load of information that he knew he might not understand or even believe he wanted some questions of his own answered.

"You all keep calling Merlin, Emrys. Barach said that is your name for him, but that he is not a druid. If Merlin isn't a druid, then why do you have a name for him? I know for a fact that Merlin grew up in a small farming village. I've been there; I know his mother. Now I find out he is a sorcerer, how is that even possible and more to the point, how is it that you knew? None of you seemed the least bit surprised when he preformed magic, so I can only assume you knew he had magic. Has he visited you before? Did you teach him the magic he knows? How long has he been a sorcerer?"

Araben waited patiently for Arthur to finish shooting questions at him before saying anything. "Emrys is not a sorcerer; he is a warlock."

Arthur blinked and shook his head. He wasn't sure he had heard the old man correctly. "Warlock? What is the difference?"

"The distinction is subtle and not really well understood by many. Emrys never chose to study the mysteries of magic or the ways of the old religion. He did not choose to learn or to even know magic. Emrys _is_ magic. What he did today to save you from the fire was a manifestation of power than is so far beyond his years that I can scarcely believe he was able to do it. Changing the natural balance of the earth itself is a frighteningly powerful magic and it is not something he learned to do. It would have been far easier and simpler to simply extinguish the flame, but he didn't do that, I assume because he has never been taught how to. Emrys' magic is instinctual. You were about to be engulfed in flame, the first instinct was to douse the flames with water and so he called forth the rain. As you said, he is a boy who was raised in a small farming village, but try to understand that magic flows through his veins; it is his very life's blood. Magic is as much a part of his physical being as his hair or eyes or the color of his skin."

Arthur's head was reeling. This flew in the face of everything he had ever been taught, and even more so it was contrary to everything he had ever known of magic. "What do you mean?"

"Emrys could no more deny his magic than he could deny being a man." Araben answered, simply.

"That's not possible, is it? I have been taught from the time I was old enough to remember that magic is evil, that it corrupts the soul. Merlin isn't evil, his soul is no more corrupt than a child's, and now you are telling me he has been like this since he _was_ a child?"

Araben shook his head sadly. He looked up at Arthur and the young prince couldn't help but feel compelled to believe the wisdom emanating from the ancient eyes, which seemed to stare into his very soul. "Magic is neither good nor evil, it simply is. Magic, like anything else, can be corrupted by those who wield it. It is pain and suffering; anger and hate; greed and jealousy that warps magic into something that is evil. The same things that corrupt men can and do corrupt magic."

Arthur wanted desperately to believe what this man was telling him. The rest of the council didn't interrupt, but all of them kept nodding their heads in confirmation of what Araben was saying. "So you are saying it's the person who wields it that determines what kind of magic it is?"

"Yes and no. You must try to understand that the world has a balance. There is dark magic and evil in this world; a fact that you have seen firsthand, but for everything there is a balance. Emrys is the white magic that balances the dark. His heart is pure. His magic is not learned, it is natural, for he is a product of nature. He is like a child in this respect. You told Barach that when he was injured he was petting a deer - that the animal was not afraid of him; it never would be. All things are connected and the deer knew that Emrys would not hurt it. His magic runs as deep as the earth itself and can be as beautiful and as terrifying as nature can be."

Arthur remembered the deer and how watching Merlin with it was so astounding. It really was like looking at the world through the eyes of a child. "You said that to understand what you did to me I would need to understand who Merlin - who Emrys is. What did you mean by that?"

Araben turned toward the council but nothing was said. Arthur felt very disconcerted by this when they did it, which seemed to be fairly often. "What is it that you are doing right now," he asked?

Barach answered for Araben since he was still conversing with the council. "We do not all need words to communicate with each other. Sometimes it is easier and safer to communicate this way."

Arthur wondered what was being discussed. It had not escaped his attention that they were obviously discussing something they didn't want him to know about.

"You were not meant to know about Emrys' magic; not yet. His coming has been foretold for generations." Araben said.

"What, you mean like in a prophecy?" Arthur asked, his head reeling with everything he was learning about his friend.

"That is exactly what I mean. He has a powerful destiny to fulfill."

"Merlin? ..... Merlin is the subject of some ancient prophecy? Merlin? Are you sure you have the right man? You are maintaining that he has magic and is this unbelievably powerful warlock, when he can scarcely walk down a hallway without tripping over his own feet? I know Merlin, he is true and loyal and has a good heart, but he is utterly hopeless. He's awkward, he can't lie to save his life..." Arthur stopped for a moment realizing that Merlin lied everyday to save his life.

"Your preconceived notions of your servant have served him well. It has allowed him to live in anonymity, and silently begin to fulfill his destiny. He has used the veil of foolishness to mask his power," Araben said, with a slight smirk.

"Now I know you are talking about someone else. Merlin acting like an idiot isn't an act. I know him better than anyone – well, all right, I didn't know he had magic or _is_ magic or whatever, but I know Merlin. He isn't deceitful. He is as honest as the day is long. He has my complete trust even now that I know his secret. Any lies he may have told me were only to keep his magic secret and that I can understand, but he doesn't just lie, he doesn't use me or my preconceived notions to hide behind. He's a good man!" Arthur was on his feet now, and angry.

Barach stood also and stepped forward. He held his hands up in a gesture of supplication. "Yes, Emrys is a good man and Araben did not mean to imply that he wasn't, but think about it. If he is viewed by Uther as a fool, then when magic - even magic that saves his son or himself - is evident, he will not look to Emrys as its wielder."

Arthur had to admit that made a whole lot of sense, and it was actually quite true. How many times had Merlin been blamed for magic only to have it laughed off as ridiculous?

"Okay so let me see if I have this straight. You have known for hundreds of years that Merlin was coming. So when did you realize that he had arrived?"

Once again the elders seemed to silently confer deciding how much they were willing to tell Arthur. Araben turned back to him and said, "The moment he entered this world a ripple was felt through the veil of magic that encompasses all living things. His arrival was announced by his birth to all who knew how to interpret the sign."

Arthur didn't say anything for a moment as he digested that information. Could it be possible? "Are you saying he was born this way; that he was born with magic?"

Araben nodded his head at Arthur.

"That's just not possible. How many people have been born this way? How many people have been put to death for something they couldn't change if they wanted to?"

Araben seemed to understand why this was so hard for Arthur to grasp. "Emrys is unique. As far as we know he is the only one who has ever been born this way. He was able to use magic before he could walk or talk. Imagine an infant who could will whatever he desired to his hands with a mere thought."

Arthur couldn't help smirking at the mental picture forming in his mind's eye. "I see how that would be a problem. I can't believe Hunith was able to raise him all by herself. How do you know all of this about him, anyway? Were you there when he was born?"

Araben shook his head. "No, I was not there for Emrys' birth. I know; we all know, about Emrys because of the prophecy. It would have been a formidable task indeed, raising Emrys, one fraught with pain and hardship, but as difficult as it was for Emrys' mother that is nothing compared with the difficulty that Emrys faces everyday living his life and fulfilling his destiny."

Arthur sat back a little. "What do you mean?"

"Emrys has faced more hardship and grief than most men twice his age, yet has had no outlet to vent his emotions or confidant to talk to. He has lost those he loves dearly and could not grieve for them; he has had to hide his true identity from the entire world so completely that he risks losing himself in the facade. He has a will to fulfill his destiny, but it comes at a very high personal cost."

Arthur dropped his head. He knew that everything Araben had just said was true. Everything that Merlin was trying to say to him the other night in his ante-chamber suddenly made sense. "He should have told me; I could have been that confidant he needed, I will be. I could be there for him when he needs to grieve, he would do as much for me – he would do _more_ for me and has."

Araben stared hard at Arthur, his face grave. "This is a very dangerous juncture for Emrys and for you, Arthur Pendragon. The fact that you even know of the prophecy puts that destiny at risk."

Arthur didn't understand at all. "So why did you tell me about it?"

"We agreed to tell you because it is imperative that you understand why you must keep everything you have learned of Emrys, his magic, the prophecy, everything secret from everyone, including Emrys."

"What? No, you cannot ask that of me. If you had any idea what he has gone through... What he needs is a friend who understands him, who can be that confidant you spoke of. Merlin needs that now more than ever, especially after Freya." Arthur felt guilt rip through him at the mention of Freya. He had not forgotten that he was the one who took her from Merlin.

Araben shook his head sadly. "I know, we all do; we know what it is that Emrys suffers, but those are the trials that he must endure to become the man he is meant to be. Without these experiences he will not have the opportunity to make the decisions that will ultimately lead him to the destiny that he must fulfill; a destiny that you are tied to. That is also at risk, but not nearly as much. Emrys can never know that he and you were here, or that he revealed his magic to you, or it will alter the course of both of your futures."

Arthur got up and started pacing. This was not something he was going to just accept on faith. It was too important. "Hasn't that future already been changed? We _are_ here, I know about Merlin, but what's more, he knows. He'll remember what happened. How could he not?"

Barach stood up and stepped forward addressing not only Arthur but the others as well.

"Emrys will remember nothing of his time here. Nelora will take care of that. She will by now have given him a draft that will not only fog his memory, but keep him asleep until Arthur can reach Camelot with him. He need never know of this encounter." Barach turned to face Arthur directly. "Everything now rests on your shoulders. The prophecy is on the brink of dying before it can be fulfilled. It has now fallen to you to keep that from happening."

"Now just hold on one moment. I don't even know what this prophecy is all about, how am I supposed to make sure it is fulfilled?"

Araben stood up slowly and stepped over to Arthur placing a hand on his shoulder. "You already know more than you should, we cannot tell you anymore. Only know that the future of all Albion depends on this prophecy being fulfilled. You are destined to be the greatest king this land has ever seen, Arthur Pendragon. That journey begins here and now, with the task appointed to you."

**TBC**

**A/N -** I'm still figuring out chapter 11. It is a pivotal chapter in the story because rather than write a sequel I have decided to combine both parts of this story in one, so I now have to figure out the best way to incorporate that. Thank you so much for your reviews and your alerts. I am so pleased that this story is going over so well. I guess I didn't really expect that considering it started out as a one shot.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

The screech of an owl flying high above the canopy of leaves is not the sound that woke Eryl, but rather the scream of pain echoing from the dream. Looking around the darkened hut, Eryl could make out the sleeping form of Grigor. The apprentice did not move in his sleep which surprised Eryl. Grigor had shown the most promise as a seer in the last three decades, yet the vision of Emrys' death had not disturbed his sleep.

The dying embers of the fire glowed softly in the fireplace and the surrounding forest was still and quiet. Even the normal nocturnal sounds of crickets and tree frogs didn't disturb the stillness of the night. Slipping from the bed silently, Eryl stepped out into the darkness and looked skyward.

Long wisps of white hair fluttered in the breeze whispering through the trees as Eryl walked noiselessly through the forest. No sounds other than the rustling of the leaves in the moonless night reached the ancient seer's ears. The vision had been terrifyingly perspicuous yet simultaneously convoluted. The prophecy had been broken, that much was very clear. There was a glimmer of hope, but it was tied to one man. A man who was, as yet, too young to grasp his true role in events yet to pass.

What was obscured were the circumstances surrounding Emrys' death. Eryl only knew that it would be sudden and violent because the warlock would be left unsuspecting, and unprotected. None of this made sense to Eryl because Arthur Pendragon would not leave Emrys to fend for himself. Emrys may be the most powerful warlock to have yet lived, but he was scarcely more than a boy and unprepared to fight a nonmagical battle on his own. The young prince had always protected his servant and Eryl could not fathom why that would have changed; the bond between them was too strong.

Eryl moved steadily through the forest until reaching a clearing. The limbs of the trees gave way to an open view of the heavens. Eryl looked up seeking clarification amongst the stars, only there were no stars shining in the mantle of the night sky. Even sister moon had hidden her face. Eryl sat cross-legged in the very center of the clearing and in a high and reedy voice began to sing to the trees.

* * *

Grigor entered the clearing holding a torch to light his way. He heard the singing and was filled with a deep sense of foreboding. The absence of Eryl's snoring had woken the young apprentice from his slumber and finding the other bed empty, he had ventured out into the night hoping to find that Eryl had just gone dream walking again.

The ancient song that Eryl sang was one that Grigor had only heard once before. It was the night that Grigor had first met Eryl and his life had been forever changed. Eryl had come to his village seeking shelter for the night. Grigor's mother and father recognized the druid markings on the seer's arms and offered shelter. Grigor was curious about the enigmatic druid and was not asleep when the seer woke suddenly and slipped out into the night. Being fourteen and having an insatiable curiosity, he got up and followed the druid into the woods at the edge of the village. The night was dark, as clouds had obscured the moon and stars from the sky. Grigor almost couldn't find his way and had to rely on youthful eyes and a keen sense of hearing to follow the druid as he walked through the trees. To his surprise the seer sat down in the very center of a small glade and began to sing.

The young man was enchanted by the song until the sounds of screams and fighting reached his ears and Grigor turned to run back home when the druid was suddenly behind him holding his arm. "You must not return, Grigor. There is nothing you can do."

Grigor yanked his arm away from the druid and ran back toward the village following the sounds of an attack on his home. To this day the young man had no idea how the ancient druid was able to keep up with him, and yet Eryl managed to do just that. Just before Grigor could leave the cover of the forest he found himself immobilized. He could not run any further and could only watch in abject horror from the shadows.

It was the night his entire village had been burned to the ground and his family and friends slaughtered by a band of at least fifty raiders from the north.

It was the night Eryl had saved him, and took him in as an apprentice.

Eryl had since told him that their meeting was not mere chance. Eryl had come looking for Grigor having seen his gifts in a vision. The ancient druid seer had awoken that night because of another vision foretelling of the raiders and the death of everyone Grigor had ever known. For months Grigor was both grateful to Eryl for saving him and hated him for not saving the rest of his family or his village. Grigor refused to accept his role of apprentice for almost a year until his own visions became uncontrollable.

Finally in desperation and fear he asked Eryl for help and thus had become the seer's apprentice. Eryl was an enigma. Grigor had discovered that Eryl had not taken on an apprentice in nearly fifty years making the young man wonder even more about his benefactor. They lived a solitary life in the forest; only coming in contact with other people when seeking supplies that the forest could not provide them. It was a lonely existence for the young man, but he no longer begrudged the life. Eryl had taught him so much about his gifts and how to interpret his visions. He had learned the beauty of magic and the wonder of the natural world.

After spending the last five years with the seer, Grigor still could not determine how old Eryl was or even if the seer was a man or a woman. The ancient druid was old but had no facial hair. Eryl's skin was like wrinkled parchment and hung from the druid's face and arms like sheets of weathered hide. The seer always wore rustic colored robes that hung nearly to the ground with a large deep hood. There were times when the old druid would stand so still in the forest that it became easy to loose sight of the seer even when standing close by.

When Grigor asked how old the seer was the answer he received was frustrating.

"I am as old as I am."

At that point Grigor decided it was none of his business and he had long since given up trying to figure out who or what his mentor was and simply accepted Eryl as Eryl.

Stepping up behind his mentor with his torch held high, Grigor looked around the clearing and up at the sky. He desperately wanted to know what Eryl had seen to provoke this trip to the clearing. If Eryl had had a vision powerful enough to seek solace or answers from the forest itself then he should have also seen something, but he hadn't. Bending down slightly and gently touching Eryl on the shoulder he asked, "What is it? What have you seen?"

Eryl's voice tapered off to a whisper and then stopped altogether. It was then that Grigor realized that there were no sounds in the forest. The entire world seemed paused as if waiting for something. A chill ran down the young man's spine. Something was coming, something that had silenced the forest. Eryl stood up in one smooth motion and turned to Grigor. "We must go to Camelot."

* * *

.

* * *

Arthur returned to Nelora's tent after the meeting with the druid elders more confused than ever. He did not like nor did he agree with the idea of keeping the fact that he knew about Merlin's magic a secret from Merlin. As he walked back he remembered the look on Merlin's face as they spoke in his ante-chamber. The desperate aloneness that Merlin felt now made perfect sense. Arthur didn't understand anything about this prophecy and the fact that the druids wouldn't tell him about it only served to make him even more determined to find out what it was.

As he walked through the encampment he tried to remember everything that Merlin had said that night. Merlin's voice echoed in his head, only now his words held a completely different meaning.

"_I don't fit. I never will - not in Ealdor, not here. I can't just be who I am. You can't see it, but it's like I'm a prisoner. I might as well be wearing chains."_

Obviously Merlin cannot be who he is, not in Camelot, and expect to keep his head. Arthur understood this. He didn't like it, but he understood why Merlin had keep his magic a secret.

"_I am held hostage to a fate I have no control over, a destiny I never asked for. They're unbreakable bonds as strong as any iron shackles." _

Arthur stopped walking for a moment as he recalled these words. Merlin must know about this prophecy. The old druid elder said that Merlin's destiny was tied to his, but how much danger of it not coming to fruition could there be if Merlin already knew about it? Arthur resumed walking toward the healer's tent deep in thought wanting to know what exactly this prophecy was and how it affected him when something else Merlin said floated to the surface of his mind.

"_I believe in you, Arthur; in who you are and what you stand for. I believe with all of my heart that you will be the greatest king this land has ever known. I believe that you will one day be the force that unites all of Albion. It is that belief - that trust - that is the key to the chains that bind me. I would have left Camelot by now if it weren't for my belief in you."_

Could that be it? Could it be that simple? If he was supposed to be this great king, then was it Merlin's destiny to help him get there? With or without Merlin he was going to become king, so he didn't really see how it was so earth shattering for them both to know about Merlin's magic. If Merlin could be open and himself around Arthur wouldn't that make things all that much easier? Wouldn't that actually make the fulfillment of this prophecy much easier and quicker?

Arthur entered the tent to find that Nelora was still beside Merlin's bed. The other bed was now empty, and whomever stayed behind to help the healer with Merlin was gone. Arthur noted that Merlin's pack as well as his own had been brought in, and Merlin was wearing clean clothes. This made Arthur aware of how uncomfortable he was, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to get these damp and smelly clothes off and changed into something clean and dry. Nelora looked up from her patient almost as though she could sense his thoughts, and indicated Arthur's pack.

"There is a large basin of clean warm water behind the partition. After you change please come back and see me so that I can speak with you about Emrys condition."

A shock of worry twisted in Arthur's stomach. "Is he all right?"

Nelora nodded her head and Arthur relaxed slightly. He still looked dreadfully pale and his arm looked no better than it did when they first arrived. Arthur grabbed his pack, and moving off to Nelora's private area to wash up and change he couldn't help having the disconcerting feeling that he could not hide his thoughts and feelings from the druid healer. When he came out and joined Nelora next to Merlin's bed Arthur touched the young man, and could feel that his fever had risen again.

"He's worse now isn't he?"

Nelora sat back a little and turned so that she was facing Arthur directly. "Not if you consider the fact that he no longer hovers at the veil to the next world, but yes his fever is higher and the Beladona is still affecting him. The poison is no longer threatening his life, but he is much weaker than before."

"Why? It doesn't make sense. If he woke up then shouldn't he be getting stronger?" Arthur asked, wanting to understand.

Nelora looked at Arthur for a moment as though studying him. "You saw what he did today."

Arthur frowned. "Yes, he made it rain hard enough to douse the flames of the pyre."

"Have you any idea how much power it takes to do something like that?"

Looking at Merlin so small and fragile lying there, and knowing that he housed so much power was still astonishing to the young prince. "Using that kind of magic makes him weak?"

Nelora shook her head slightly. "Not exactly. Emrys is essentially untrained, and magic is an extremely powerful tool, especially _his_ magic. The amount of raw power flowing through him in order to bring down that kind of rain is staggering and something that very few people could do. Some of the priests and priestesses of the old religion can command that kind of power, but not many and then only after years of training. What Emrys did today was both unprecedented and remarkable, not to mention dangerous."

Arthur didn't like the sound of that as a chilling thought occurred to him. "Could he have used magic so powerful that it would have killed him?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't have thought so, but now I'm not so sure. In an injured or weakened state, I suppose it is possible."

Anger flared in Arthur at that statement. "Then this whole plan could have seriously backfired! What good would it do if Merlin woke up only to kill himself trying to save me?"

"I agree that trying to provoke a response from Emrys by threatening your life was a bad decision, but in defense of the council, no one had any idea that this could happen. Jaylen was left here to monitor Emrys, and as soon as he saw any kind of response he was meant to inform Barach who would have doused the fire himself. But that isn't what happened. Emrys emerged from unconsciousness with such force that Jaylen was overwhelmed by a shockwave of magic, and only woke up himself a short while ago. No one could have anticipated Emrys would physically come to your rescue in such a state; never mind the fact that he used an elemental magic that should have been far beyond his ability at this point in time."

"He'll be all right though, won't he?" Arthur asked.

This time Nelora spoke with conviction. "Yes, given time and proper care, he will fully recover. This is what I want to discuss with you." The healer got up and walked over to a short table and picked up a thatched box and brought it back to Arthur setting it on the floor in front of him as she sat back down. "I have prepared a kit for you to use while caring for Emrys on the return trip to Camelot."

She opened the lid of the box and inside were various items. There were several neatly rolled wide strips of linen to use as bandages, three small bottles with corked lids, and a shallow bowel with four bundles of herbs resting inside along with a smooth stone about the size of his fist. Lifting up one of the corked bottles she handed it to Arthur.

"This is the antidote for the poison. Every time you stop you need to try to rouse him enough to get him to drink it."

"Hang on - Barach told me that you were giving him something to make him sleep until we arrive back at Camelot."

"Barach asked me to give him a powerful sleeping draught, but I am the healer here, and I will decide what I give my patient. It would be very unwise to drug Emrys in his condition."

Arthur was thankful that Nelora was such a strong personality and would not bow to ill advice from her community leader. "So you haven't wiped his memory of what happened today?"

"I have given him a medicinal draught that is designed to help fight off the poison. It does have the side effect of confusing very recent memory, but no, I have not specifically '_wiped_' his memory as you suggest. I do not have the skill to remove someone's memory, and even if I had that skill I could not do so without Emrys' permission. He would have to willingly surrender his memory for the spell to work properly. Whatever he remembers of his time here will seem like the remnants of fevered delirium. This is something that you can reinforce by denying your visit here."

Arthur placed the bottle back in the box before crossing his arms over his chest. "I wanted to talk to you about that. Barach and the elders don't want me to tell Merlin that I know about his magic. I disagree - strongly. I don't see how this can be harmful to him or to this destiny that we share."

Nelora bowed her head as if gathering her thoughts. When she looked back up at Arthur he could see that she sympathized with his feelings in the matter.

"The journey that Emrys and you are on to find your places in the world has only just begun. There is a natural balance and order to everything and this occurrence has upset that balance. I know how difficult his life is, keeping this secret within his heart, but it is that very difficulty that is molding him into the man that he is destined to become. Without the benefit of the trials his life and his secret pose, he will not find his true path.

"Look at what he was able to do today. Emrys, commanded a magic that should have been impossible for him to wield, and yet he did so even though he was barely holding onto consciousness. Every time he must use magic to save your life and keep it secret at the same time, he grows in strength and in ability. The necessity of keeping his magic secret is what has kept him from the king's attention. These are skills he must hone in order to fulfill his destiny, just as you must hone your skills in order to fulfill your destiny to rule. Some of the lessons that you have learned have been difficult have they not?"

Arthur thought about the things that he had learned; the lessons that have been painful for him. The first one that came to mind was the unicorn. If he had not gone through that experience he would not have learned to appreciate how wrong he was to kill the animal, but more importantly he would not have learned the true value of humility. He nearly cost his people everything because of his pride. It was indeed a painful lesson that would have had far less impact if the difficulty in that lesson had been taken away. Arthur nodded as he thought about this and Nelora continued.

"It is imperative that Emrys be allowed to continue to learn and grow in his abilities in order to fulfill his role in the future. Would you willingly take those lessons from him?"

Arthur frowned, sighing, "No, I suppose I wouldn't. I _do_ understand what you are saying, it's just that this will be very hard to keep to myself. I don't know how I am going to be able to keep such a big secret from the one person who has every right to know the truth. Can you tell me what exactly this prophecy says about him and about me? I think I have figured it out, but I want to understand it."

"I cannot tell you anything of the prophecy. You must understand that you already know too much. There is a danger in knowing the future, Arthur Pendragon. To know the future changes that future and _that_ changes everything else. It is the most dangerous and difficult part of being a seer. The future is fluid and something very small and seemingly insignificant can drastically change what is to come. Emrys has kept this secret all of his life, from everyone whom he loves. Now the mantle of responsibility for the burden of his secret lays in your hands. Use the knowledge wisely; use it to protect him."

Arthur realized that Nelora had basically said much the same thing that Araben had, but somehow coming from her it seemed more credible; perhaps because she hadn't tried to kill him. He still didn't like it, but at least with the explanation Nelora had had given him, he thought he understood why it was so important. If Merlin could bear the weight of such a daunting secret for so long, then he could as well.

Nelora touched Arthur's hand to make sure she had his full attention. "Your court physician will know what to do when you get Emrys back to Camelot. You will not be able to hide the fact that he was cared for by a healer. Your physician will know when he examines Emrys, but you must make sure that information goes no further. Emrys _must not know_ that he was here. He _must not know_ that you are aware of his magic."

Arthur nodded a little reluctantly, then looked back at the box and pointed to the bowel with the herbs and stone inside.

"What are those for?"

Nelora waited for a moment before answering. She stared into his eyes as if trying to convince herself that he had taken her words to heart. After a moment she seemed satisfied and looked down at the box. She pulled out the bowel and set it on the floor next to the box.

"Use the stone to crush one of the herbs bundles up then place hot water in the bowel over the herbs to steep for a while. This is an antiseptic wash to clean the wound on his arm. Remove the bandages and allow any fluid seeping from the wound to drain. Rinse his arm throughly with water and then use the antiseptic wash on the wound. Put a clean bandage on and burn the old one. Infection will be the greatest risk to Emrys now, so you must do this every time you stop. The wash will hurt and will rouse him. After that you will be able to give him the antidote for the poison."

The instructions were simple enough, but Arthur was no physician and he was concerned that he wouldn't know what to do again if something happened. "How will I know that any of this is working? How will I know that an infection has started? If it does, then what should I do?"

"You can feel that his fever is high, but he isn't sweating; his skin is completely dry. If he begins to sweat that is a very good sign. It will mean that the antidote is working and the poison's grip on his body has been broken. If his arm becomes infected you will see a green or yellowish puss drain from the wound. In that case make sure you wash all of the puss away with water and use the antiseptic wash, just as I instructed. If an infection does start, watch for an increase in fever. Wipe down his brow when you can, but keep him covered in blankets. I will have extra blankets for you to take when you leave in the morning."

The thing that frightened Arthur the most hadn't been addressed. "What do I do if he stops breathing again?"

"That won't happen; not now. Remember that I told you the poison is no longer threatening his life. I have listened to his breathing carefully and I do not believe that it will be a problem again. At the pace you will be able to travel it will take you a day and a half to reach Camelot. I trust that you will cope well with him and not have to deal with any serious complications as long as you follow the instructions I have given you. I have spoken to Inalira. She and her husband will be wintering with us until he has recovered from his wounds. She insists that you use the travois to transport Emrys back to Camelot."

Arthur watched as Nelora replaced all of the items into the thatched box and put the lid back on it. "Thank you, Nelora, for everything."

**TBC**

**A/N -** Just in case anyone is wondering about the names I used in the first part of this chapter this is the eytmology of the names.

Eryl - Welsh: no gender - means a place of outlook, to watch

Grigor - Welsh: male - means watcher


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N -** Sorry about the wait. Shit happens. Mothers-in-law suck, end of the school year is packed with loads of events, and my baby boy is getting ready to start kindergarten in the fall. That should be interesting. We're hoping he doesn't take one look at the driver and refuse to get on the bus! The great news is - I got a call from the elementary school principal and she told me that he tested the highest off all the kids on the placement tests. We are just hoping that school isn't going to be super boring for him since he is doing 1st grade math and reading and writing before he even starts kindergarten.

Now as to this story - This chapter and the next address some unanswered questions from season two. When and how did the treaty between Uther and Cendred come apart? Why was it a forgone conclusion to Uther that if Arthur went into Cendred's kingdom to find the Dragon Lord and was caught he would be killed? That always bothered me so in figuring out a way to transition this story to accommodate the second half I decided to answer those questions. I hope you approve.

**Chapter Twelve**

Arthur woke early, rising in the pre-dawn light. He wanted to get Merlin back to Camelot as soon as possible, and the earlier they started the farther they would get before darkness forced them to stop for the night. Nelora was awake and tending to Merlin when Arthur woke which surprised him considering the fact that she was still sitting with him when sleep took the young prince the night before. He found himself wondering briefly if the young woman ever slept.

The healer showed Arthur how to crush up the herbs as well as prepare them to wash out Merlin's wound. She had everything prepared to change his bandage and give him the elixir to combat the poison in his system. Just as Nelora had said, the stinging astringent roused Merlin when she poured the antiseptic wash over the wound in his arm, but he never opened his eyes, only moaning and trying to pull his arm away. Arthur was the one to get him to drink the antidote and he watched carefully as Nelora put a clean bandage on Merlin's arm. By the time everything was done Arthur felt more confident that he could tend to Merlin on his own, at least for as long as it took him to get the young man back to Camelot.

The sun had still not quite crested the distant mountains on the horizon when Merlin was securely wrapped into the travois and the device attached to Arthur's horse. He tethered Merlin's mare to the pommel of his saddle with a long length of rope and Nelora as well as several of the elders and Barach accompanied Arthur out of the druid encampment toward the clearing with the fireplace. Arthur noted that several people were up and it looked as though they were packing up the camp. He wondered if the druids planned to leave this area because of his presence among them, but he didn't want to ask.

Once they was out of the forest and in more open ground Arthur turned to Nelora. "I thank you for your assistance. Merlin would have died if you hadn't helped him, and I will be forever in your debt."

"You owe me no debt, Prince Arthur. It is my charge to help those who need it."

Arthur urned to Barach and looked at him as well as the elders who were standing with him. "I would like to say that it has been a pleasure knowing you..."

Several of the men and women bowed their heads, but Arthur really couldn't determine if it was due to shame, embarrassment, or some other emotion. "I have learned more than I planned to on this trip, and despite the fact that you tried to kill me, I view this visit with your people as a valuable experience. I promised you that there would be no repercussions if you let us leave, and I am a man of my word. I will not tell the king of your camp nor will I seek retribution for our little... misunderstanding."

Barach extended his hand much the same way Arthur did when they first met. After a moment's pause Arthur took the man's hand and shook it firmly. "I regret the steps we felt the need to take, Arthur Pendragon. We know that you will be a fine king and under your rule this land will once again know peace and justice. Take care of Emrys as he continues to take care of you."

Arthur looked to the sky and saw that the horizon was lightening. Without any further words spoken Arthur mounted his horse. He looked to be sure that Merlin was safely secured to the travois and without looking back he headed off toward Camelot and home.

Travel through the forest paths was slow and arduous with the travois and several times Arthur was forced to dismount to maneuver over or around obstacles. As he pushed forward through the denser parts of the forest, Arthur was stunned at how difficult it was to navigate with the heavy travois attached to the back of his horse. Smaller obstacles were no real problem because of the design of the device, but when a large fallen tree or boulder stood in the way he would have to lift the end of the poles dragging along the ground while coaxing the horse forward. Manhandling the travois over these obstacles was exhausting work and the young prince couldn't fathom how Inalyra had managed to get as far as she did on her own with her husband who was easily twice the size of Merlin.

By midday he was exhausted and ready to stop for a break. Merlin had remained unconscious during the arduous trek through the forest, and that didn't change even as Arthur cleaned the young man's wound and prepared to re-bandage it. Getting him to rouse enough to drink the antidote for the poison was nearly impossible and it was starting to seriously concern the young prince. Merlin seemed to be lapsing into the deep sleep that had Nelora and the druids so convinced would take his life. Arthur briefly considered turning back, but in the end decided that he must push forward and get him back to Camelot and Gaius. While he was impressed with Nelora and her skills, she was young and he had complete faith in Gaius and his wealth of knowledge. Gaius is the only physician he had ever known and the man had seen him through the most difficult injuries and illnesses of his life.

After a brief stop to allow the horses to rest and treat Merlin's arm, Arthur quickly packed up after forcing a little more water into Merlin and headed back out. He knew that travel would go much faster once he made it to the main road running north and south between the kingdoms. Cutting directly through the forest may have been the shorter route, but the travel was so slow because of the cumbersome travois that diverting to the main road was the better option.

With that in mind Arthur checked the position of the sun and changed his route, now heading due west. It took another three hours to make it to the road and Arthur decided not to stop again until nightfall.

They made such good time once that they had a clear road to follow that Arthur pushed on forward even after the sun had nearly set. They were less than an hour from the border of Camelot and something inside of the young prince wanted to get over that border before stopping. He glanced back at Merlin lying in the travois, but it had gotten dark enough that he couldn't really see his young servant any more, only his outline.

Arthur maintained a steady stream of dialogue directed at the unresponsive young man and was so absorbed in his diatribe that was sometimes fiery in nature that he didn't notice Merlin moving about trying to get out from under the straps holding him in place, until he heard his name called out in a strangled voice.

"Arthur!"

"Merlin?" Arthur spoke with worry and anticipation as reined his horse to a stop and jumped down. Merlin was thrashing about calling Arthur's name. While the young prince was happy to see that Merlin seemed to be coming out of the deep state of unconsciousness, he was concerned by his behavior. Stepping over to the travois Arthur knelt down and took a hold of Merlin's shoulders to calm his thrashing. "Hey, can you hear me? Merlin?"

Merlin moaned again causing Arthur to rest his hand on the young man's forehead checking his temperature. To his dismay Merlin was burning up and had broken out into a heavy sweat.

"Oh, God, Merlin! You're burning up." Arthur stood up and guided the horses off the road to a clearing about 20 yards off to the side of the road. He worked quickly gathering up some small kindling that was readily available and got fire going. By the light of the small fire he was able to see well enough to gather up some larger pieces of wood to stoke the fire up enough to set up a proper camp. But first he needed to check on Merlin who was tossing his head back and forth obviously agitated.

"No, don't! Arthur, run! Don't hurt him... I won't let you hurt him."

Arthur felt a mixture of pride and guilt as he listened to his friend's fevered murmuring. Merlin was so faithfully loyal to him which filled him with pride, but his initial anger and mistrust at Merlin's secret revealed sent a shock of guilt through him. How could he have ever thought that Merlin would have used any means at his disposal magic or otherwise to harm him, or Camelot? The young man may be a blundering idiot, but he was more loyal that the royal hounds, and more stubborn.

Arthur unhooked the travois from the back of his horse and dragged it over closer to the fire. The fever seemed to be much worse in the short time it had taken him to get the fire going and Merlin was drenched with sweat.

"You must save him. I willingly give my life for Arthur's. His life is worth a hundred of mine."

Arthur looked at Merlin oddly wondering what he was talking about. Hearing his servant - his friend - say that Arthur's life was worth so much more than his own chilled Arthur and brought back another memory of Uther saying that Merlin's life was 'worth less than his'. Merlin may have been delirious, but somehow the young man's words had a ring of truth to them. "Merlin?"

Arthur pulled out the kit that Nelora had given him feeling panic numbing the edges of his senses. "What do I do? What did Nelora say about his fever going up?"

Arthur had to take a few slow breaths and calm down to think more clearly. He grabbed a cloth from one of the saddle bags and wet it from the water skin to wipe down Merlin's brow.

"Wait! You're sweating! Merlin, that's good. That means that the antidote is working. I'm sure that's what Nelora said. This is good, right? Merlin, you just need to hang on. I swear I'll get you back to Camelot, you just need to keep fighting."

"You must learn to listen as well as you fight."

Those words sounded very familiar, and then Arthur remembered the conversation Merlin had with him after he was bitten by the questing beast.

"I have learned quite a lot from you, Merlin, but if you ever repeat that I'll deny it completely. You were right though; and again I'll deny ever saying that so you might as well enjoy it now for what it's worth."

"Don't... get... a boot licker."

"You are going to fight this, you are going to get better and you will be there to clean my room, polish my armor and annoy me with your pearls of country wisdom. So, Merlin, no more talk about leaving your job."

"I'm happy to be your servant... until the day I die."

"You are not going to die, Merlin! Do you hear me?"

Merlin continued muttering under his breath as his fever climbed. He made odd references that Arthur couldn't help trying to put some meaning to, but most of his muttering was undistinguishable. Arthur spent a few more minutes wiping down the young man's fevered brow before he pulled out the supplies to clean Merlin's wound.

As he worked Arthur kept going back to the odd conversation he had with Merlin so many months ago. Merlin said he would give his life in exchange, and Arthur still felt that those words were more than just delirium talking. He knew what a questing beast was and he had been warned about it's bite. If Gaius said that the bite was fatal then he had no doubt that it was, so why was he alive? Some ancient elixir being his savior seemed far less likely given the revelations he had encountered on this trip. The questing beast was a creature of the old religion, it's bite should have been fatal which means that the only way Arthur could have survived is if he was healed magically, but how?

As he crushed up the herbs in the bowl realization dawned on Arthur. Both Merlin and Gaius has disappeared for nearly two days right after that cryptic conversation. Going over that conversation again in his mind a chill began to creep up Arthur's spine. Merlin wasn't just being cryptic, or imparting his own brand of country wisdom, he saying goodbye. He expected to die in exchange for Arthur's life being spared from the bite of the questing beast. Given that perspective the conversation suddenly made chilling sense.

"God, Merlin, is that what you did? You traded your life for mine? Is that why I recovered from the questing beast's bite?"

Merlin had stopped talking and was only moaning weakly now. Would Merlin really offer up his own life to save Arthur? The young prince didn't even have to think about that to get his answer. Merlin tried to do the very same thing when he was tested by Anahora with the poison cup.

"If you traded your life for mine... No wait that doesn't make sense. It couldn't be. You're not dead."

Arthur continued to mull the situation over in his own mind as he prepared the wash for Merlin's arm. By the time he was ready to unwrap the bandage he was no clearer than he had been before, but all thoughts of that incident were wiped from Arthur's mind as he unwrapped the bandages on Merlin's arm.

The wound was clearly infected with thick yellowish puss oozing from the center of the wound and the skin surrounding it being an angry red and puffy. He knew the antiseptic wash was going to hurt given the state of the young man's wound so Arthur grabbed hold of Merlin's wrist tightly and held his arm out straight. As he slowly poured the astringent over the wound Merlin hollered out in pain and tried to pull his arm away, but Arthur held on tightly. When he flipped the arm over to see the back he was somehow hoping that it would look better, but the back of the forearm looked even worse.

Arthur ran out of the wash before he had throughly cleaned both the entry and exit wounds and as much he wanted wrap the arm up in a clean bandage, he dared not until he made more of the cleansing wash and was able to wash out all of the puss. Not having anything else to use Arthur took the cloth from Merlin's head and tied it around the arm to cover the wound while he made more of the wash.

The moon was fully up and it was completely dark, except for it's celestial light, by the time Arthur was done tending to Merlin and finished setting up the camp. The fevered young man continued to rabbit on about the strangest things before he finally settled down into a fitful sleep. Arthur couldn't help wondering how much of Merlin's ramblings were the result of the fever and how much were snippets of truth.

After listening to Merlin, Arthur had come to the conclusion that Merlin is the one who had made the snakes on knight Valiant's shield come to life in front of the entire court, and that it was also Merlin who had defeated Cornelius Sigan, although how he had accomplished defeating the most powerful sorcerer that Camelot had ever seen was still beyond him. The druid elders seemed to think that Merlin possessed incredible power and he didn't doubt that after seeing what the young man had done to save him from the flames, but to defeat someone so old and so powerful seemed at the very least far fetched. As he thought back over all of the near misses and odd events over the past two years that he had known Merlin, Arthur came to the firm conclusion that Merlin had been standing behind him in the shadows saving him and saving Camelot right from the start. Considering how they first met this astounded him.

Arthur had grown as a man and as a prince since meeting Merlin and as much as he would like to take full credit for the emotional advances and maturity he had gained over the last two years he knew in his heart that Merlin's fiery opinions and his unflinching friendship and loyalty are the things that had helped him to grow into the man he was.

Merlin and Arthur had a dreadful night. Merlin's fever grew hotter and he often yelled out thrashing his arms and kicking his legs, and Arthur had to try to calm him down and would apply fresh compresses to his forehead in order to control the fever. Merlin didn't finally settle down into a more peaceful sleep until a couple of hours before dawn when Arthur finally fell asleep lying next to his servant ready to jump up and calm any renewed fits.

It was well past dawn when Arthur opened his eyes to the morning sun peeking through the lush canopy overhead. For a moment he felt disoriented, not knowing what time it was. Merlin was still sleeping peacefully and as much as Arthur was loath to disturb him he wanted to get them both back to Camelot before midday if possible. He got up and stoked up the smoldering embers of the dying fire from the night before and set water to heating while he pulled out the supplies to make a new astringent wash for Merlin's arm. He snacked on dried meat as he worked and opted to drink a small amount of water from their dwindling supply in the water skin. He still had enough to make the wash and get Merlin to drink a little as well. The infection in the young man's wound didn't look quite as bad as it did the night before, but Arthur was no physician and he couldn't really tell if there had been much improvement. There did seem to be less yellow puss oozing out of the wound and he took that as a good sign.

Much to Arthur's relief Merlin roused a little with the application of the wash and even opened his eyes looking around wildly seeming completely confused as to where he was and what was happening to him.

"Arthur? What..."

Arthur smiled at the young man as relief flooded through him. Merlin's fever had broken during the night and while he was still wet with sweat he was definitely cooler than he had been the previous night.

"Well it's about time you woke up."

Merlin tried to sit up but could barley raise his head. "What happened?" he asked with a weak and barely audible voice.

"Hold on there. Don't try to get up. You have been very sick. What do you remember?"

Merlin laid his head back down and seemed utterly spent. He closed his eyes and looked as though he were thinking. He didn't say anything for a long moment and Arthur thought he had fallen back asleep until he spoke in a voice just above a whisper.

"I remember pain. I was shot with an arrow. Who shot me?"

Arthur was a little nervous about Merlin remembering anything from the druid encampment and he answered the young man carefully.

"I don't know who it was. Someone hunting with poisoned arrows. The practice is outlawed in Camelot because it is so dangerous."

"Everything after that is fuzzy. Was there a fire? I remember a fire, or I think a I remember a fire and ... uh rain."

Arthur was tempted to tell Merlin everything for a moment, but as much as he may have wanted to, he understood the reasoning that the elders had given him for keeping his knowledge of Merlin's magic a secret. He hated to do it to him, but if Arthur could put Merlin on the defensive he might leave it alone.

"Merlin, you have been burning up with fever for two days now. You've been delirious and I have to tell you that not much of what you have said has made much sense. The fever had you talking about the strangest things, things that made no sense, things that couldn't possibly be... well true."

Fear and confusion ran across the young servant's face for a moment before he spoke. "Why, what did I say?"

"It doesn't matter. You were delusional with fever. Do you think you could sit up a little and drink some water?"

Arthur wanted to give him some more of the antidote for the Belladonna poison, but he didn't know how he would explain having it. As it was he was grateful Merlin hadn't asked about the painful astringent wash Arthur used on his arm that had brought him around to consciousness.

With Arthur's help Merlin sat up just enough to lean his back against Arthur's leg for support and took a drink from the water skin. The young man noticed the bandage on his arm and examined it.

"This bandage; did you do that?"

"It may interest you to know that I actually _do_ have some skills. Every warrior needs to know how to apply an effective field bandage."

Merlin just nodded and laid back down utterly spent. He drifted off into a fitful sleep as Arthur packed up the camp and got ready to move back out to the road. Merlin slept hovering between a natural sleep and unconsciousness for the next half an hour. They were almost at the border of Camelot and Arthur felt the inexplicable need to hurry. He never knew if it was some sort of sixth sense or his observational skills or simple pure luck that tipped him off and made him more wary, but when the attack came Arthur was ready.

Less than a mile from the border a group of three marauders emerged at full speed from the forest to the west and before they were even close enough to engage Arthur was off his horse with sword in hand. Three against one were odds that the young prince of Camelot was familiar with having trained against as many knights simultaneously. This battle was different. These men had murder in their eyes and had obviously thought that Arthur was an easy target since he was carrying an injured man behind him. This thought on the part of the bandits was erroneous as Arthur went on the offense meeting the first of the bandits before he could get close to Merlin.

As Arthur reached the man he swung his sword to his left and brought it back in an arc slicing the man through the midrift. Without stopping at all he lunged forward meeting the blow from a second man parrying the thrust from his sword while spinning around and throwing his sword directly into the chest of the third man charging from the right.

The one man left standing paused only for a moment hardly believeing that his comrads had been felled so quickly and easily, but he realized that his opponent was now weaponless and vulnerable. He screamed and charged directly at Arthur who was able to dodge the attack by diving and rolling to his right. He knew he was in trouble and at a distinct disadvantage but that didn't stop Arthur. As he rolled out of the way he reached out and grabbed a fallen branch from the ground and swiftly came to his feet using the branch like a fighting staff to block the over head swing of the man's sword. The branch was uneven and cumbersome to use but it was still an effective weapon for defense. As the two men faced off exchanging strikes, blocks and blows three guards ran into the fight from the opposite side of the road, obviously drawn to the sounds of battle.

Arthur was pleased to see Cendrid's men show up on the scene and called out to them as they approached.

"I am Arthur of Camelot, glad you could make it to the party!" he shouted, as he swung around clipping his attacker behind the knees and sending him sprawling onto his back. Arthur turned to face the approaching soldiers and much to his shock they were still brandishing their weapons and running forward to attack. The first man reached Arthur sword raised above his head ready to descend on the young prince of Camelot.

Arthur raised the branch up just in time to fend off the blow and shouted angrily at the man. "What the hell are you doing? I told you that I am Arthur of Camelot!"

The remaining bandit had made it to his feet and was now fighting two of the other soldiers while the soldier who had attacked Arthur renewed his own attack on the prince joined by yet another of Cendrid's men.

Arthur was one of the finest warriors in all of Camelot and would feel comfortable holding his own against any man from any other kingdom, but he was now outnumbered four or five to one, depending on whether or not the bandit decided to suddenly ally with Cendrid's men.

Arthur was less than a mile from his own kingdom and if Cendrid's soldiers were to follow him into Camelot's territory knowing who Arthur was it would be an act of war. Arthur had moved closer to the bandit impaled by his sword and decided that his best bet was to go for the weapon. A branch used against one untrained marauder was one thing, but it was a useless weapon against trained soldiers. He gripped the large branch with both hands and threw it viciously at the advancing soldiers chests. He used the distraction of them avoiding being hit by the heavy branch to run for his sword.

Pulling the sword from the lifeless man's body Arthur spun around ready for battle. He knew in the back of his mind that he had little chance of coming out of this fight alive, but he would fight to the end no matter what happened. As the soldiers advanced he set to work blocking and parrying the blows fighting with every ounce of strength in him.

He wasn't even sure when he sustained a wound to his upper arm nor did he take much notice of the slash across the back of his right shoulder. What he did notice was when the two soldiers who had been engaging the last marauder finished him off they too joined the battle against Arthur. Much to his surprise the two men approaching were suddenly flung to the side but he did his best not to notice as he continued to fight for his life.

The thought that Merlin had been awakened by the sounds of fighting and had most likely used magic to help even the odds gave Arthur renewed fervor. Ignoring the pain of his wounds Arthur screamed out a blood curdling battle cry as he charged. He attacked relentlessly making quick work of the stunned soldiers who had assumed they had the upper hand and the advantage of numbers.

Cendrid's men moved too slowly. The man closest to Arthur didn't have time to parry the diagonal upward stroke that felled him. As the second soldier charged the prince thrusting his sword forward hoping to deliver a killing strike and didn't anticipate that Arthur would spin on his heel avoiding the blow. As Arthur turned with the grace of a dancer the soldier never saw the sword wielded by the enraged prince before it ran him through the back.

It took Arthur a minute to realize that all of the enemy combatants were dead or out of commission. He always felt an odd sense of euphoria immediately following an intense battle, but as his eyes fell on the travois a nearly numbing panic washed over him.

"Merlin!"

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

A/N - Thank you for all the reviews and for your patience. Those reviews are the things that keep nudging my mind reminding me that I have people waiting for the next chapter so they do have an impact. I want to, once again, acknowledge my betas who have stuck with me over the course of time. Thanks again and please enjoy.

**Chapter Thirteen**

Eryl had continued to have disturbing visions as he and Grigor trekked out of the western forests and headed toward the forest of Essotier. The ancient seer was getting precious little sleep and Grigor was starting to worry about his mentor. The young apprentice had asked Eryl what the visions were but never got an identifiable answer. All he knew was that a dreadful mistake had been made by one of the druid communities and that it had thrown off the delicate balance of an ancient prophecy. Eryl was being so tight lipped about what the visions had been that Grigor had finally given up asking about them and simply tended to his mentor's physical needs to the best of his ability.

Grigor realized that they were not headed directly to Camelot, as he thought when Eryl and he left their remote forest home, for Eryl had changed course as soon as they crossed over into the forest of Essotier. It didn't take him long to figure out that the old seer meant to visit the druid community that he seemed to feel had made the mistake that would cause the death of the immortal one known as Emrys.

Grigor knew the basics of the prophecy concerning Emrys and he was also aware that the incarnation of the immortal one had come to pass sometime in the last two decades. What he failed to understand was how someone who is supposed to be immortal could die because of a mistake made by someone else, least of all by one of the druid communities.

To Grigor it seemed that they were wandering aimlessly, because Eryl changed the direction they were traveling several times after each round of visions. In the years that Grigor had known Eryl he had never doubted his mentor's ability, but the fact that Eryl didn't seem to know which way to go was giving the young man cause for concern; that and the fact that the ancient seer seemed more and more disturbed by the visions concerning Emrys.

The one thing Grigor had discerned was that they were traveling steadily northward closer to the mountains. The nights were getting perceptibly cooler and he feared for Eryl's health in the damp weather. After nearly a week of wending their way through the dense forests, through murky fog and craggy ground, they finally found the small community they sought. Grigor had lived a very secluded life with Eryl, but even his untrained eye could tell that this entire community had recently moved to the place they were occupying. All of the tents and shelters had a very temporary feel to them and the majority of the members of the community were engaged in building more permanent shelters as if frantically preparing for the winter season.

Eryl walked directly into the settlement, ignoring the shocked stares of people who stopped in their work to gawk at the new arrivals. Neither Eryl nor Grigor had ever seen any of these people, a fact that was readily apparent. Eryl seemed to know exactly where to go as the seer marched right up to a group of gathered elders who stared at them as they approached. Once within a foot of the group, Eryl threw the hood of the weathered cloak down and looked directly at a tall and imposing man standing at the front of the group. Grigor had never mastered the art of unspoken communication, and was therefore completely lost when the man turned to the other elders to announce that a counsel session was to begin immediately. The man then turned to Grigor and spoke.

"I am Barach, the leader of this community, and I will ask you to stay with Aenya, our teacher." He turned and motioned a young man over to the group standing there. "Jaylen will take you to Aenya. We will send for you after the council convenes."

Grigor didn't like the idea of being separated from his mentor. "I must stay with Eryl. This trek has not been easy. Eryl needs me to be ... "

Barach cut the young man off. "Grigor, is it? Eryl will be fine. We have one of the finest healers in all the land as a member of our community and she will tend to any of your master's needs. The council session is for the elders of the community and no one else."

Grigor looked to Eryl in protest at being sent away but the seer stood stock still, seemingly observing the group of elders present and the interaction of this druid leader with the young apprentice. Grigor never liked being the subject of Eryl's observations, least of all now, but as he stared at his mentor, he saw steel in the ancient face that made him hold his tongue. Giving one last look at his master, Grigor hoisted up the packs a little higher on his shoulders and turned to follow Jaylen.

Grigor was led to one of the larger tents and introduced to a woman in her late thirties, to the best of his reckoning. She was just finishing up with a group of youngsters who dawdled in leaving their lesson to gawk at the new arrival. One of the children, who seemed to have a sullen demeanor, openly studied Grigor before turning to his teacher.

"_More_ visitors? I hope this doesn't mean we have to move again!"

Aenya didn't look very pleased with her student and rebuked him sharply.

"Being rude to a visitor is not how you have been taught to behave, Joshua. Our guest is tired and needs to rest, not be insulted by a seven-year-old boy. You must go home now and wait for your father's return."

Joshua looked pained by his teacher's statement. "That will be forever because of the council meeting."

Aenya didn't say anything else, but the look she gave the boy would have withered the most headstrong person. Grigor himself felt a little abashed by that look and he hadn't said a word yet. Finally, Joshua turned toward Grigor and extended his hand.

"I apologize for being rude, sir. It's just that after the grownups tried to kill the prince of Camelot we all had to move and I didn't want to have to do that again."

The shock on Grigor's face at what the boy had just said went unnoticed as Aenya shouted, "That is _enough_, Joshua! Go home and wait. Your father will be told of your behavior today and he will discuss with you what appropriate actions should be taken."

The obvious threat made the boy's eyes open wide and Grigor saw the ghost of real fear. He had spoken out of turn and knew he would pay a price for that. The boy scurried off and Grigor turned to Aenya, the shock still clearly visible on his face.

"You people tried to kill Arthur Pendragon? It's no wonder Eryl has been so upset."

It was Aenya's turn to be shocked. "Eryl? You are Eryl's apprentice?"

Grigor nodded and shrugged the packs off his shoulder. "We have been traveling for weeks now. Eryl was awakened by a disturbing vision that concerned Emrys, but did not tell me that the prince was also a part of the vision. Eryl only said that a terrible mistake was made by this community and that it would ultimately lead to..."

Grigor stopped speaking shocked by what he had almost revealed. He was being as impetuous as young Joshua had been and blushed red with shame. He didn't have enough information about his master's visions to be speaking so casually about them to a stranger.

Aenya was as intrigued by Grigor's statement as he was by Joshua's. She held her tongue and helped Grigor to stow the gear he had carried before offering him a cup of hot tea. Once they were both seated again just outside her tent Grigor faced Aenya. His curiosity was too much to hold back. The events that had taken place were affecting his mentor's health and he needed to know what had transpired.

"Aenya, I will tell you what I know so that you can understand how important it is for me to know what happened here."

Grigor told Aenya everything he could about the visions and how they were affecting Eryl. As he spoke, a deep frown graced Aenya's face and the news that the actions of the council would lead to Emrys' death seemed to rock her to her foundation. The teacher knew that it wasn't her place to say anything but she sympathized with Grigor's position. He was clearly concerned for his master, and she was now seriously concerned for all of them, so against her better judgment she told Grigor about Arthur and Emrys' visit to their camp.

It was well past midnight when Eryl finally walked up to the tent that the teacher used for her shelter. Grigor had refused to sleep until he had seen Eryl and saw for himself that everything was all right with his aging mentor. The seer looked much the same as before the council went into private session. Grigor had expected Eryl to look exhausted, but if anything, the fire in the ancient eyes gave an image of strength and youth to the weathered old face.

"Are you going to tell me what happen in the council session?" Grigor asked as Eryl sat down across from him at the small fire burning in front of Aenya's tent.

"No," was the only reply he got.

"Then are we staying here?" Grigor pressed.

"No." Again, Eryl gave the one word answer.

Grigor didn't have to be a skilled seer to realize that Eryl was angry, angrier than he had ever seen his mentor. Knowing what had happened here didn't prepare Grigor for Eryl's seething fury. He did not envy the members of the council of this community.

"Get some sleep, Grigor. We leave for Camelot at first light."

Grigor knew better than to try to question Eryl further. He knew that Eryl would not sleep tonight even though the old seer needed the sleep desperately. It would take them easily two weeks to reach Camelot if not longer. He feared for his mentor's health with such a treacherous trip ahead of them. The forest of Essotier was not the safest place to travel through and he was not a skilled fighter. Plagued by reservations about the trek, yet resolved to see Eryl safely to Camelot, Grigor stood up and turned to enter the tent.

* * *

The gentle bumping of the travois moving over the main road had lulled Merlin into a deep sleep as his tattered body fought off the poison still plaguing his system, not to mention the soul-deadening fatigue induced by using such powerful and elemental magic. Odd dreams assaulted Merlin's semi-conscious mind. He felt himself wavering in an undefined mist that felt sinister with remembered pain like fire running through his very blood, but it was tempered with a voice filled with love, and he was filled with a desperate longing to follow that voice into the depths of the mist and shadow.

As the voice of the woman he loved faded away the fire and pain returned only he was no longer in the place of mist and shadow. He found himself in the forest surrounded by trees, tents, and people. A raging fire ahead of him in a clearing made him confused and frightened. Arthur stood tied to a stake atop a raging blaze surrounded by faces he didn't know. All other thoughts fled from his confused mind to be replaced with one single immutable intent. He must save Arthur. The flames were licking higher and higher. The only thing he could do was to douse the fire. In his mind's eye he saw a drenching downpour of rain drowning the flames. Fueled by panic and sheer desperation, Merlin felt an immeasurable energy surge through his body and before he could stop it, a palpable explosion of power erupted from his very core. A deafening rushing sound assulted his hearing blocking out everything else. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his head; reverberating like a hundred stacato drums until he was overwhelmed and enveloped in an inky blackness.

Merlin had the sensation of time passing, but he couldn't see anything or feel anything. He heard faint sounds somewhere off in the distance; the clang of metal on metal and the shouts of men. The sounds of battle grew louder bringing him out of the darkness surrounding his concious mind, until he cracked one eye open. What he saw didn't make sense at first. He was lying down but he wasn't flat on the ground. He turned his head toward the sounds of men fighting and saw two soldiers engaged with an armed man but he didn't recognise any of them.

The one thing the young warlock clearly understood was that he needed to not be here while this battle raged around him. He found himself strapped into some sort of stretcher that was hooked to a horse. Suddenly memories flooded back to him. Arthur! Merlin craned his head around looking for his prince and found him fighting two other armed soldiers off to the far right. He seemed to be holding his own for the moment so Merlin turned his attention back to his own situation. With a quickly whispered word the straps securing him to the travois fell away and he rolled out and fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

The man the two soldiers were fighting had turned and run in his direction only to be felled by one of the soldier's swords in his back. As this man fell he lost his grip on his own sword and it tumbled out of his hands and dropped blade-first to the ground pinning Merlin's left arm to the ground as it pierced his forearm right through the bandage. The searing pain that ripped through his arm robbed him of his voice as he soundlessly screamed.

The soldiers obviously didn't consider him a threat and turned their attention to Arthur and began advancing on his position. Arthur was a great swordsman and could hold his own in almost any fight but four to one was too much to ask of anyone. Merlin concentrated and his eyes glowed bright gold. The two soldiers converging on Arthur position flew through the air with incredible force slamming into nearby trees to fall unconcious to the ground. Merlin tried to see Arthur as he fought the two remaining soldiers but his vision was growing dim and he didn't have the strength to keep his head up any longer.

* * *

It took Arthur a minute to realize that all of the enemy combatants were dead or out of commission. He always felt an odd sense of euphoria immediately following an intense battle, but as his eyes fell on the travois, a nearly numbing panic washed over him.

"Merlin!"

The young man lay on the ground next to the travois with one of the bandits lying across his legs, but that wasn't what frightened Arthur - it was the sword still quivering slightly that ran through Merlin's injured arm. The bandage was saturated with fresh blood and Merlin lay unmoving.

Arthur dropped his sword and ran to his companion fearing the worst. As he dropped to his knees, he reached down, shoved the bandit away from Merlin, and then looked at the sword piercing his arm. Upon closer inspection, Arthur could see that it wasn't as bad as he had thought. Rather than going between the two bones in Merlin's forearm as the arrow had done the sword had only cut a glancing stab wound through the fleshy outer portion of the arm. He took hold of the sword's hilt and yanked it straight up and out of the ground, as well as Merlin's arm, which dropped back to the earth with a lifeless thud.

Arthur carefully rolled Merlin over onto his back looking the young man over for any more injuries that he may have sustained during the fight and upon seeing none, felt immensely relieved that he was breathing steadily. Arthur looked around at Cendred's men. Two were dead, two were unconscious, and more could be coming, so he lifted Merlin up and placed him back on the travois. He quickly strapped him in again and jumped on his horse leaving the scene of the attack as quickly as possible. He knew he was close to Camelot's border and he needed to get into his own territory as fast as he could.

The travois bumped and shuddered as he galloped over the uneven ground. Arthur knew that he had crossed the border a while back but now that he was moving quickly, he didn't want to stop. Merlin had been through so much physical trauma that he just wanted to get him back to Camelot so that Gaius could take over his care. As he continued down the road, the young prince looked up and saw a sight that made his heart soar. Riding directly toward him was a large patrol of knights clad in red and gold.

The party was lead by Sir Leon who recognized the prince at a distance. As they drew nearer and Arthur's injuries became visible, Leon motioned the rest of the party to surround the prince and his servant.

"Sire! Were you attacked?" Leon inquired as he drew up even with Arthur's horse.

"Yes, by bandits just over the border, but that isn't the problem. I was able to handle them easily enough. Cendred's soldiers turned up and attacked me even after I identified myself."

Shock at this news showed clearly on Leon's face. "We have been hearing of attacks along the border from the outlying villages. We knew there was a band of thieves attacking travelers, but this news of Cendred's men is very disturbing. Was it the soldiers that injured you and your servant? The king will declare war over this."

Arthur shook his head. He was sure that Leon was right. His father would be very upset by this attack. "Merlin was shot with a poisoned arrow on the other side of the forest of Essotier, a careless hunter made a mistake." Arthur looked at his arm and noted the blood on the sleeve. "This was a result of fighting Cendred's men. We need to hurry. Merlin needs to be seen by Gaius right away. I will report to the king as soon as I get him settled in the court physician's quarters."

As the prince turned his back to Leon the knight noted the bloody gash on the back of his right shoulder. "You need to be tended to as well, sire. I can bring the king to you."

Arthur kicked the flanks of his horse and moved past Leon. "Either way we need to move now. Merlin has been too long without medical attention."

Arthur moved off toward Camelot without looking back, but felt much better knowing he had his knights at his side. Leon ordered two of the party to accompany him back to the city but left the rest to stay and patrol the border. He didn't want any of Cendred's men crossing over into Camelot's territory and they had orders to kill any who did. As far as Leon was concerned, the attack on his prince was an overt act of war, even if it happened in Cendred's territory. It certainly voided the treaty between the two kingdoms. Feeling secure in leaving the safety of the border to Camelot's knights, he turned and followed Arthur back to Camelot. Camelot meant saftey and strength... at least for now.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N - **See I didn't forget about you all!  
Please check my profile page for my apologies. This chapter has not been beta read. I figured that you would not want to wait the extra week the beta process takes. I did have my 13 year old look it over for obvious errors and I have read the entire chapter out loud so I think I have caught all the really glaring errors. Please enjoy this next installment and I thank you once again for your patience.  
Alice I

**Chapter Fourteen**

Arthur rode on as fast as he could manage while pulling the travois along the on road behind him, which amounted to a reasonable cantor. Sir Leon rode beside the Prince in silence while almost unconsciously scanning the trees and forest along either side of the road keeping alert for any new attacks. He was well aware that they were safely in Camelot's territory, but the obvious injuries to both the Prince and his manservant kept the older knight on his guard.

Arthur's only thought was to get Merlin back to Gaius who would be able to take over his care, but as he rode along he couldn't help beginning to take note of his own injuries. His left arm was aching as the sliced fabric of his tunic stuck to the dried blood along his bicep and his right shoulder blade stung with each bounce as his horse trotted along coming closer to the city and home.

Leon found himself focusing on the blood staining Arthur's tunic and after nearly half an hour of riding by his side could hold his tongue no longer. "What happened, Sire?"

Arthur was pulled from his reverie by Leon's question and felt a shock of panic run through him. He assumed that Leon was asking about Merlin's injuries and he realized that he needed to concoct a story that would keep them both out of the gallows. Keeping everything as close to the truth as possible seemed the best idea so he turned his head toward Leon as he spoke.

"We were hunting in the forest of Essotier, but were not having much luck. You know what Merlin is like on a hunt..." he added, knowing that Leon would draw an apt image in his mind of Arthur's hapless manservant stumbling through the forest scaring away any possible game.

Before he could continue with his story Leon interrupted, "The forest of Essotier? Sire, those woods are rife with evil."

Arthur scoffed at the implied danger of hunting in the forest and continued his tale. He told Leon about coming across Inalira carrying her husband through the forest to a small village that had a healer in the very same travois that he now used for his manservant. Leon was quite impressed by the tale of the woman heavy with child being able to pull a full grown man over the uneven forest floor without benefit of a horse.

As Arthur warmed to his subject he found that the truth was actually quite a remarkable story that shouldn't raise any real concerns. It was easy enough to believe that an injured peasant must travel far to seek medical help when a serious injury was involved and Leon never hinted at wondering about the druids that were known to live in the depths of the forest.

"After we saw Inalira safely to the healer, Merlin and I continued west to the foothills of the mountains. We camped in a high glade overlooking a small valley at the base of the western arm of the range. When I woke the next morning Merlin was already up and had left the camp. I saw him down in the valley below just sitting there staring off toward the foothills when the most remarkable thing happened."

Leon's curiosity was piqued at that introduction as were the two other knights who were riding alongside the small party headed toward Camelot. They still kept their eyes on the surrounding forest but moved closer to the Prince and Sir Leon to hear the story Arthur was telling.

"A young deer entered the valley, and to my utter amazement it slowly walked right up to him."

Leon seemed incredulous. "To Merlin, Sire?" Arthur smiled at the stunned voice of his finest knight. "You are talking about the same Merlin that manages to scare off almost every bit of game within forty yards when we go out hunting?"

"The very same. It was the most remarkable thing I have ever witnessed. This wild deer stepped up to him and actually allowed him to pet it."

Arthur couldn't tell if Leon believed his recounting of these events until the older knight spoke. "Well, I suppose it is possible. Merlin has always had a gentleness to him that is almost girlish. Perhaps the deer mistook him for a maiden."

That comment earned Leon muffled laughter from the other knights, but the laughter died away when it was clear that Arthur was not joining in. Leon must have feared that he had upset the Prince for he continued in a contrite tone.

"I meant no disrespect, Sire. I know what Merlin means to you."

Arthur looked at Leon and wondered if that statement were true. He doubted it, since even he himself didn't really know what Merlin meant to him until he had almost lost his friend. He continued on with the story of how Merlin was injured and the effects of the poison on the arrow. It was at this point that Arthur had to carefully diverge from the truth in order to explain their time spent with the druids before his return trek home with Inalira's travois.

Hearing how sick Merlin became, it wasn't hard for Leon to understand why Arthur chose to seek out the nearby healer rather than attempt to get the young man all the way back to Camelot immediately after such an injury.

"While I mean no disrespect to your servant my concern, Sire, is for your own injuries. Were they a result of the bandit attack or Cenred's soldiers?"

Arthur shrugged at the question. "The bandits were handled easily enough. They weren't trained soldiers and there were only three of them. Cenred's men, on the other hand, were a different matter. I wasn't expecting them to attack me especially after I identified myself. These..." Arthur raised his injured arm, "...were a result of fighting them. In my own defense it _was_ five to one at the time, but I still managed to come out on top."

Within the next hour of riding, the spires of Camelot came into view and Arthur began to relax a little knowing that Merlin would soon be in the care of the court physician. He glanced back at his manservant and saw that the young man was still unconscious. He frowned as worry for his friend increased. He felt sure that Merlin should have woken up by now. Arthur picked up the pace a little, determined to get the young man to Gaius as quickly as possible.

One of the knights riding alongside Arthur's party rode ahead quickly, Arthur assumed to alert the court physician. As they rode in through the gates and up to the courtyard Arthur saw that not only was Gaius there, but also many guards, several of the knights who were not out on patrol, and the King.

Arthur cringed inwardly when he saw the deadly look on his father's face. He knew that as the Prince it was his responsibility to report to his King immediately, but he was more concerned with getting Merlin the help he needed. This was one of those times that Arthur hated it when duty had to come first. As he brought his horse to a halt he swung his leg over his mount and jumped down. As his feet hit the flagstone a sharp pain lanced through his back due to the wound across his shoulder blade. He inhaled sharply, but that was the only sign that he was in pain and he didn't think that anyone was close enough to hear him.

"Gaius!" he called out sharply, but he needn't have, since the aging physician was already walking quickly toward the Prince and the travois that Merlin lay on still unconscious. "Merlin has been seriously injured. He was shot with an arrow poisoned with Belladonna."

The color drained from Gaius' face at that announcement. "How long ago was the injury?" he asked, fear clearly evident in his voice.

"It happened three mornings ago."

That stopped Gaius for a moment as relief spread across his features. "Three days? I do not mean to doubt you, Sire, but if he had been poisoned three days ago with Belladonna he would surly have died by now."

As Gaius spoke he knelt down to look at Merlin and his injured arm. "Who applied this bandage?"

"I did, Gaius. I assure you it _was_ Belladonna. He nearly died, but I was able to find a healer in a small settlement who saved his life, but he is still very ill."

The relief that had washed over the old physician's face melted away, but before he could say anything else Uther's booming voice was heard throughout the courtyard.

"Were you also poisoned, Arthur? Those wounds look fresh." the King said, pointing at Arthur's bloodied tunic.

Gaius stood up and stepped closer to Arthur to examine his wounds with a chastised look as the King glared in his direction.

"I am fine, father. My wounds are only superficial and, yes, they are fresh. I have much to report to you. These can be dealt with to after my report." Arthur said, as he made to follow the King into the castle.

"No, Arthur, go with Gaius and have your wounds attended to first. I will await you in the throne room." Uther turned to the two knights who had arrived with Leon and the Prince. "You two take the boy to the physician's quarters. Sir Leon, please see to Prince Arthur's needs and report to me afterward."

Without saying another word Uther turned and strode off toward the castle steps. Arthur was surprised by his father's announcement. He fully expected the King to want to speak to Arthur immediately about what had happened, but the King could still take him off guard from time to time.

Once Merlin had been deposited in the low bed by the fireplace Arthur shooed the knights out of the physician's chamber. Leon lingered behind attempting to fulfill the Kings orders by staying with Arthur, but the Prince had other ideas.

"Sir Leon, please go and assemble the knights. I will come and give them orders when I finish speaking with the King about Cenred's soldiers."

"Sire, the King asked me to..."

Arthur stopped Leon with a raised hand before he could continue. "I am fine here with Gaius. I understand that my father wishes you to report to him, but there is little you can tell him. The King told you to see to my needs, and I _need_ you to assemble the knights in the training field. I am uncertain how the King will react when he hears of Cenred's mens treachery. We must be ready to carry out what ever orders he gives. Once you have the knights assembled you should meet me back in the throne room when I relay my report to the King."

Leon looked uncertain for a moment until Arthur's hard gaze decided the matter for him. Arthur knew he was making sense. If Leon were to report to the King now he would have nothing of consequence to tell him, and what little he _did_ know could cause the King to make a rash decision based on emotion rather than fact. Arthur knew that Leon trusted him to know what he was doing, especially when it concerned the safety of the kingdom and when dealing with the King. Leon bowed to his Prince and turned swiftly to leave the chamber.

While Arthur was speaking with Leon, Gaius had taken the time to unwrap Merlin's arm and examine the wound. Once Leon had left, the physician stepped over to Arthur and told him to remove his shirt.

"If you need to report to the King then I had better get on with attending to your wounds, Sire."

Arthur could tell that Gaius was almost bursting with questions about what had happened, but being an excellent physician and proper courtier, he held his questions at bay until he could preform his duty.

"These wounds are a little more than superficial, Sire. They will require stitches. Take a seat up here on the table while I get supplies."

Arthur obeyed, knowing he wanted to get this over with so that Gaius could tend to Merlin. "Will he be alright, Gaius?" Arthur asked, as he turned his head toward the young man lying on the small bed.

"I believe he will be fine. His vital signs are good, his fever is not too high, and his wound has been skillfully tended to. As a matter of fact, I would venture to guess that an extremely skilled healer or physician has already cared for Merlin. I should like to meet this _village_ healer who posses such skill."

Gaius raised one eyebrow in an expression that Arthur was all too familiar with. It was a look that the aging physician had given him countless times in the past to indicate he knew that Arthur had not told him everything. The stress he put on the term _village_ healer also indicated to the Prince that Gaius doubted his story.

Gaius' hands moved quickly with practiced ease in cleaning and stitching the wounds on Arthur's arm and shoulder. He knew full well that Arthur would object to having his arm in a sling so rather than attempting to make the young Prince wear one he opted instead to wrap the Prince's shoulder and arm separately in tight bandages.

Arthur understood Gaius' need to gather as much information about Merlin as possible and was not surprised by the next question that the court physician asked. "How is it that you are so certain the arrow that pierced Merlin was laced with Belladonna?"

Knowing that he would not be able to fool Gaius, but also knowing he could not betray Merlin, the Prince chose his answer carefully. Arthur knew in his heart that Gaius would never turn Merlin into the King if he were to find out about Merlin's magic, but the druids had been very clear on the point that Arthur must not allow _anyone_ to find out that he knew about Merlin's secret.

"There was a village nearby that had a healer. I described the symptoms to her and she identified the poison as Belladonna. He was very sick, Gaius, he even stopped breathing for a moment."

Gaius paled visibly when Arthur said this, and the Prince knew that Gaius believed him.

"This healer saved his life. We stayed at the village until Merlin was well enough to be moved. The healer made up some stuff to clean his wound and showed me how to make it so that I could keep it clean during the trip back to Camelot."

Gaius' eyebrows raised even further at that statement. "When I am finished with your stitches I will need you to show me this cleanser and how you were instructed to prepare it. That will help me to know what has been done for him thus far, and allow me to gauge how best to help Merlin."

It only took Gaius a few more minutes to finish tending to Arthur's injuries and he felt much better with the bandages tightly binding his wounds. Arthur then took out the kit that Nelora had put together and showed Gaius what he had been instructed to do.

"This cleanser is uncomfortable, but it did seem to help when Merlin's arm clearly became infected. I don't know what all of these ingredients are..."

"Not to fear, Sire. I am familiar with them. The preparation is unique and if I didn't know better I would suspect that your healer was a druid. This technique is reminiscent of their medicine."

Gaius watched Arthur carefully when he said made that statement and judging by the stunned and almost panicked look in the prince's eyes he knew now what Arthur was trying to hide. He had gone to no village. He had taken Merlin to the druids.

"You said his arm became infected. Tell me about that."

Arthur cleared his throat and tried to speak in a even tone. His heart was hammering against his chest at what Gaius had just said. "He developed a fever that had no sweat. Nelora said that it was dangerous. She said that once he started to sweat that was actually a good sign."

"Nelora?" Gaius asked interrupting the Prince.

Arthur hadn't meant to let that slip, and hesitated for a moment. "Yes, that is the name of the healer who tended to Merlin."

Arthur was worried now that he had betrayed the druids, but Gaius didn't push the question any further so he continued.

"When I made camp and was supposed to change his bandage, I noticed thick yellow puss coming from the wound. I used the cleanser to wash it out. It caused him a lot of pain, but it also roused him enough to give him the antidote for the poison."

"Antidote?" Gaius asked somewhat alarmed. "Preparing an antitoxin for Belladonna is no simple task. It takes great skill, and I would doubt that a small village healer would have the knowledge or experience to properly brew it."

Arthur just looked at Gaius not knowing what to say to this. Nelora was described by the druid council as one of the finest healers amongst their people. How was he going to explain that this _village_ healer was so gifted, especially given the fact that Gaius already suspected that something was off about Arthur's story?

"I... well it seemed to work, so maybe she learned it from someone who had more skill."

Arthur knew that his explanation was more than a little weak as evidenced by the suspicious look that Gaius cast at him. There really wasn't anything he could do about it, so he simply handed over the antidote and let Gaius form whatever opinion he wanted to. His main concern at that point was what Gaius would tell Merlin when he woke. Arthur still wasn't sure what Merlin remembered. He remembered what he had done to put Merlin on his guard, and wondered if the same tactic would work in this instance.

"Gaius, Merlin was out of his mind with fever and the effects of the poison. He said some things that... I don't know how to put this."

Gaius' entire demeanor changed abruptly when Arthur hesitated. He seemed to suddenly become very concerned by what Merlin may have said in his delirium, or at least that is how Arthur interpreted the now cautious set to the old physician's facial expression. He hated fooling the old man this way, but he had to keep Merlin's secret and Gaius was far to crafty and wise to assume he would miss some random statement Merlin made.

"He said things that made no sense. Things that could be _dangerous_ if heard by the wrong person. Please try to understand what I am saying. I don't want anyone talking to him when he wakes up until I have had a chance to see him first. Please, Gaius, you must trust me in this."

Gaius bowed deeply and promised that he would abide by Arthur's request. As the Prince left the physician's chambers he glanced back to see a deeply concerned look on the court physician's face as he bent to attend to Merlin. He stepped out, but stayed put for a moment on the other side of the still open door listening.

"Oh, Merlin, what did you say? If Arthur suspects your secret... Oh my dear boy, what are we going to do?"

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Arthur's mind was a jumble as he walked away from the court physician's chambers and made his way to the main castle keep. _'Gaius knows about Merlin's magic. He has been harboring and protecting a sorcerer all of this time!'_ Even as the Prince thought this, his mind conjured up Araban's voice. _'Emrys is not a sorcerer; he is a warlock.' _

Warlock, sorcerer, druid; it was all still very confusing to Arthur. He had been taught from infancy that magic was evil, that it corrupted the soul, yet the druid community he had spent two days with didn't fit that image at all, at least not until they had tried to kill him. Even after that, the explanation that was given to him for the druid's actions made a perverted form of sense. Merlin had indeed come back from the brink of death to save him. Arthur knew without a doubt that he would willingly give his life for Merlin, he would for any of the people he cared about, but that was different than being captured and roped to a stake to be burned alive against his will, but the fact remained that magic or not, Arthur would not betray Merlin to the King or anyone else.

As he passed by soldiers stationed throughout the castle his thoughts continued to whirl around in his mind. What of all the innocent sorcerers who had been burned at the stake for the crime of simply possessing magic? He knew exactly what they must have felt like having been in that position himself at the hands of the druids. A thought occurred to him just then. _'What if that was a small part of their decision?'_ He was destined to be the King and there may very well have been an element of showing him what it felt like to be tied to a stake and knowing that your life was about to end in a horribly brutal manner. Arthur had to stop for a moment as a shiver crawled up his spine.

Gaius, the trusted court physician, and friend to the Pendragon family for his entire life had nearly burned at the stake for crimes he had nothing to do with. Arthur remembered how shocked he had been when he found out that Gaius was once a practitioner of magic; a sorcerer. As the truth came to light it became obvious that Gaius was only acting to protect Merlin. Now it turned out that the physician's ward, his bumbling, uncoordinated, dim-witted servant was some warlock of legend and destined to fulfill some ancient prophecy that he himself was a part of.

Araban told him that his part in that destiny was to be the greatest King Camelot had ever seen, and that the journey to that destiny began with keeping all of this secret and that it was a task appointed to him alone. Arthur understood all about undertaking difficult tasks, but this whole prophecy business was undeniably surreal to him. Arthur's head was spinning with all the different implications and he had to forcibly shake himself as he approached the throne room.

Right now he had to revert to his role of Crowned Prince and report to the King concerning the attack of Cenred's soldiers. That was a problem that he could wrap his mind around. The tensions between Mercia and Camelot had been strained, but they were supposed to be at peace with one another. The treaty was obviously no longer valid at least in the eyes of Cenred's men and therefore Cenred himself. No soldier would risk war with a neighboring kingdom without the consent of their King. Arthur paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before entering the throne room. When the doors swung open to admit him his face was impassive. He looked every bit the leader of the Knights of Camelot.

.

* * *

.

It was the discomfort in his arm that woke Merlin at last. From the elbow all the way down to his fingertips his entire limb was throbbing in time with his own heart beat. A low moan escaped his lips as he slowly opened his eyes. It was bright, too bright for comfort, so he quickly closed his eyes again. He turned his face toward the light and allowed the brightness to filter through his closed lids for a moment.

He lay there for a moment trying to bring his thoughts into focus. He was lying on something that wasn't the ground. that is when memories began to flood through him. His eyes snapped open expecting to see the forest surrounding him, but what he saw were the familiar surroundings of Gaius' chambers. He was home. He was in Camelot. How had he gotten there? The last thing Merlin remembered clearly was waking up in pain. He was in the forest and he was injured. Arthur had been there and told him that he had been shot with a poisoned arrow.

"Ah, you're awake." Gaius' voice startled Merlin a bit and he flinched. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I didn't mean to startle you. How are you feeling?" The physician asked as he moved over to take a seat on a short stool next to the low bed.

Merlin thought about that for a moment. His arm hurt, the throbbing was not getting any better, he felt weak and drained. His head throbbed almost as much as his arm and he basically felt like he'd been dragged behind a horse for two days straight.

He tried to answer Gaius' question but the only sound that issued from his mouth was a strangled sort of squeak. Gaius seemed to understand and helped the young man to sit up enough to drink some water from a short wooden cup. After he took a couple of sips, letting the cool liquid swirl around his parched mouth he lay back down exhausted.

"Thanks. How long have I been here?"

"Arthur rode in this morning pulling you along on a sort of stretcher. Sir Leon and several of the knights came across the two of you fleeing from Mercia. You had been attacked by bandits as well as some of Cenred's soldiers."

Merlin frowned at that and tried to remember. He did remember vaguely that there was some sort of fight. He had a sense of Arthur shouting and protesting being taken captive. He had an odd sort of fuzzy recollection of a struggle that seemed both far away and very close by at the same time, but somehow he also had the sense that it occurred inside some sort of dwelling. He thought he had dreamed it.

"Merlin? Are you alright?" Gaius asked. He looked concerned and Merlin realized that he had drifted off a bit. He stopped for a moment and tried to order his thoughts. He felt confused and a little off center.

"What did you just say, Gaius?"

The concern on Gaius' face seemed to deepen. "I told you that you and Arthur arrived this morning after being attacked. Do you remember any o that?"

Merlin thought hard and then a clearer memory floated to the surface of his mind. "I was outside in the forest... I remember hearing the sounds of a battle. Several men were fighting. Some were in the clothing of peasants, and some were soldiers. The soldiers seemed to be fighting Arthur as well as the other men."

Merlin found it hard to concentrate as the throbbing in his arm and head grew worse. "The armed man that two of the soldiers were fighting ran right at me, but one of the soldiers threw a sword at his back. He lost his sword and when it fell it went through my arm."

Merlin paused for a moment closing his eyes as remembered pain flashed through his mind making the throbbing in his arm seem to dramatically increase in intensity.

"That explains the second wound I found." Gaius said.

Merlin didn't want to talk about this any more. His head hurt, his arm hurt, his whole body felt like it had been through a mill. "My arm, it hurts," he said, in a low whimper.

Gaius turned away from the young man and reached for a small vial sitting on the nearby table. "This will help with the pain," he said, as he moved the small vial toward Merlin's mouth.

The young man raised his head enough to drink the contents, making a face at the bitter taste.

"Is Arthur alright? Was he injured?"

"You don't need to worry about Arthur. He had a few minor injuries, but nothing that he couldn't handle."

Relief turned to anxiety on Merlin's face as he remembered something from the battle. "Gaius, I think I may have used magic in front of Arthur. Those soldiers were turning to go after him, but he was already fighting off two other soldiers. I don't know if he saw me or not. I passed out right after that. Did he say anything when we arrived back here in Camelot?"

Gaius grew very quite for a moment. He was indeed concerned especially after what Arthur had said before he left to see Uther. He had promised the Prince that he would not allow anyone to speak to Merlin until he had a chance to talk to the young man.

"Merlin, I honestly don't know what Arthur may or may not have seen. He certainly didn't say that he had seen you preform magic, but..."

The anxiety in Merlin's eyes turned to barely veiled panic. "But what?"

"It seems that while you were delirious with fever you may have said some things that didn't make sense. The way Arthur put it - _'things that could be dangerous if heard by the wrong person.'_ He specifically asked that I not allow anyone to talk to you when you woke up, until he had a chance to speak to you first."

Merlin felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach and he couldn't keep the quiver from his voice. "Where did he go after we got here?"

Gaius seemed hesitant to answer that question, but Merlin persisted. "Gaius, where is Arthur now?"

"He had to give a report to the King," the physician answered reluctantly.

The pain, the effects of the medication Gaius had just given him, the sheer fatigue aside, Merlin sat bolt upright. "I have to get out of here!" He made to try and get up out of the bed as a wave of dizziness washed over him and he wavered unsteadily.

"Merlin, you are in no fit state to go anywhere! Lie back down," Gaius said placing both hands on the young man's shoulders and forcing him back down. "We have no idea what Arthur thinks he knows. He was vague when he spoke to me, and I have no reason to believe that he would say anything to the king. If anything he wants to keep his reservations to himself, hence his request that no one be allowed to speak with you until he has had a chance to. You must trust in him, Merlin. I do not believe that he would betray you, even if he does know your secret."

.

* * *

.

Grigor was grateful for the horses that had been provided to them when they left the druid settlement, but he still felt concern for Eryl. The ancient seer had not slept in almost two days and Grigor knew that as much as his master tried to hide it, the fatigue was starting to take a toll. They were at least two day's ride from Camelot and he would willingly make it three if he could get Eryl to fall asleep. Grigor had already decided that when his master did finally sleep he would use what little magic he possessed to make certain that nothing disturbed the ancient seer until Eryl woke without benefit of disturbance.

As the day grew long Eryl showed no sign of wanting to stop; not speaking, and riding straight toward the western arm of the mountain range. As the shadows grew longer and longer Grigor came to a decision. He kicked the sides of his horse into a quick cantor and rode up in front of Eryl's horse stopping the animal by taking hold of the reins.

Eryl seemed to take a moment to focus on the young man blocking his path. After a moment the old seer's eyes became focused. "Why have we stopped?"

"Eryl, it is getting late. You need rest, I need rest and the horses need to stop as well. It will do us no good to arrive in Camelot only to have you collapse from sheer exhaustion. You have not slept in days and that will not due. I am charged with your safety so I will not allow us to go any further tonight."

Eryl's eyebrows shot up at that statement. "And who charged you with the task of protecting me, young Grigor?"

"You did, Master. I am your apprentice. It is my responsibility to see to your physical needs as it is your responsibility to train me in the art of the old religion."

A sly smile turned up the corner's of the old seer's mouth. Grigor was reciting the words Eryl himself had spoken to him when the young man had first come to live with the old druid. Grigor expected an argument from his master, but instead Eryl bowed his head and deftly swung a leg over the horse landing lightly on the forest floor.

"I will meditate while you prepare camp."

With that Eryl moved off through the trees as Grigor also dismounted and took the reins of both horses leading them to a tiny clearing. It didn't take Grigor very long to set up camp; complete with a sturdy lean-to that Eryl would sleep under. Preparing food was a simple matter as Aenya had sent them off with already prepared biscuits and meat cakes that only needed to be warmed over a fire. The druid teacher had also given him a small box with tea that she had grown herself. She mentioned that the tea would help relax the seer and allow Eryl to sleep more soundly, something that Grigor was most interested in. He steeped the tea into a fairly strong brew and added a splash of mead for good measure.

Grigor was about to get up and go find Eryl when the old druid appeared as if summoned. This was something that Eryl had always done, and it still unnerved Grigor slightly. He often times felt that the silent communication that some druids were able to use worked one way in his relationship with Eryl. It was as though his master could hear his thoughts, but not the other way around, which in turn made Grigor feel at a distinct disadvantage.

As Eryl settled down to eat, Grigor walked a slow circle around their camp intoning a protection spell to keep them safe from any eyes, human or otherwise. By the time he was finished to his satisfaction Eryl had eaten his meal and was slowly sipping the tea that Grigor had made. The young apprentice sat down across the fire from Eryl and ate his own meal keeping a close eye on his mentor.

Eryl looked older than Grigor had ever seen. The ancient seer actually _looked_ ancient and it unsettled Grigor somewhat. Eryl had always had a feisty gleam in the eye and moved with surprising swiftness and agility for one so old. The seer desperately needed to sleep if they were to face a trip to Camelot where death could easily await them.

"Eryl, I understand that we must go to Camelot and see Prince Arthur. It is a very risky venture, made even more so by the fact that you want to speak to the Crowned Prince when King Uther would have us both killed on sight."

Before Grigor could continue Eryl looked up and spoke. "What do you know of our mission to Camelot, Grigor?"

Grigor knew that he shouldn't have known anything about this trip other than that they were going. He had never been untruthful with his master and the young apprentice wasn't going to start down that path. Aenya and I shared information, Eryl. You had to know that I would try to find out what had happened to cause you to insist on this trek. Your anger with the council was palpable. I have tried to _see_ what lies ahead, but that path is hidden from me still."

Eryl stared at Grigor for a long moment before speaking. "I would have expected nothing less from you. It troubles me that you have not been able to see any part of the path ahead. Normally your visions come quickly after I have revealed my own. Perhaps you should commune with the forest tonight."

Grigor shook his head vigorously. "There will be time for that later. Tonight my responsibility is to you and making sure you sleep soundly. My concern at this point is what we shall do once we reach Camelot. If we are recognized as druids we will face Uther and the gallows, or the stake, or the chopping block. The King of Camelot is not known for his compassion toward our people. How can we seek an audience with the Prince without drawing the attention of the King?"

Eryl's eyelids were becoming droopy. The tea was doing as Aenya had promised much to Grigor's relief. He may very well take his master up on his suggestion of communing with the forest to try and glean the answers he sought, but it would have to happen from within the confines of the camp. He became so engrossed in his own thoughts that he missed the soft reply of his mentor.

"Excuse me, Eryl. What did you just say?"

"Gaius. He is the royal physician and an old friend. It is through Gaius that we will come to Arthur and to Emrys."

With that statement Eryl finished his tea and silently got up to move to the bed that Grigor had prepared. Grigor sat for a long time feeling even more concerned by Eryl's plan. It seemed a foolish idea to him to enter so closely to the royal household by seeking a meeting with the court physician, but given the circumstances it likewise seemed that it was their only real hope of contacting Prince Arthur.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N - **Sorry for the slight delay in the posting of this chapter. I have been waylaid for almost a week with migraine headaches. They don't prevent me from working, but they do interfere with writing. In any case I have not started the next chapter so it may be a week or so before it can be posted. I appreciate all the support and reviews. You guys in this fandom are terrific!

**Chapter Sixteen**

Arthur and Leon walked down the corridor discussing the situation between Camelot and Mercia.

"I am a little surprised that the King reacted so... mildly, Sire."

Arthur stopped at the top of the stairs leading down to the courtyard and looked at Leon for a moment. "Why is that?"

"The attack on you, Sire. I would not have thought that something that could be so easily dismissed."

"Leon, my father was by no means dismissing it. I am sure that the diplomatic envoy will carry a rather scathing dispatch to Cenred."

"I meant no disrespect, Sire. It's just that I would have expected him to..."

Leon didn't seem to want to finish his thought, so Arthur obliged him, knowing what Leon was probably thinking. "Overreact? It may seem out of character for my father to seek a diplomatic solution first, but we have to keep in mind that many bloody battles were fought and hundreds of men died to attain the tenuous peace between Mercia and Camelot. It isn't something the King will easily let fall by the wayside. That is why our _'scouting mission'_ is so important. While Cenred and my father are facing off in the political arena, we will probe his defenses and ascertain what offensive measures Cenred has put into place."

Leon nodded his head with a look of approval. "Your suggestion of a reconnaissance mission shows that you are an excellent tactical leader, Arthur. That is something the King needs to recognize in you."

Arthur lead the way with Leon walking beside and half a step behind the Prince. "We will want to select six of our finest knights. I will lead the advance guard and you will lead the rear guard. We'll dress as peasants and infiltrate the border. We need to try to determine what Cenred's resources are, how many men he has moving through the border lands, the best tactical entry points for Mercia and defendable terrain on our side of the border. If we can get an accurate enough idea of how Cenred will attack we could set a trap or at the least defend the territory better."

"Do you anticipate an attack, Sire?" Leon asked, wondering how soon they would all be setting off to war.

"I don't think Cenred will attack, at least not until he believes he has the upper hand. He still fears my father in open battle, and he knows that he would never be able to breach the citadel if he were to try to lay siege to Camelot. Either way ultimately he would end up on the losing side of the encounter, and Cenred doesn't take chances. That is one of the reasons that my father was able to get him to sign the treaty in the first place. Without some advantage I don't believe that Cenred will attack Camelot out right. Our job will be to make sure he doesn't have that advantage, and to covertly disrupt any preparations he has already made."

Arthur smiled slightly as he mentioned disrupting Cenred's preparations and Leon asked, "You have something in mind, Sire?"

"Let's just say that Cenred's forces are about to have quite a run of bad luck."

* * *

The knights of Camelot all had their assignments within an hour of Arthur and Leon leaving the throne room. The small group that Arthur and Leon had hand-picked for the reconnaissance and sabotage mission left to find suitable attire for their journey. Another contingent of Knights was set to accompany the royal courier with a message for King Cenred, while the rest of Camelot's knights had instructions to continuously and very visibly patrol the border, as well as to ensure the safely of the outlying villages by evacuating those who were too close to Mercia for comfort. Arthur's intention was three fold; while the diplomatic discussion between the kingdoms proceeded between Cenred and Uther the Knights actions close to the border would be extremely visible drawing the attention of Cenred's men thus allowing his small group to successfully infiltrate the border undetected.

As the Knights dispersed, Arthur's thoughts turned inward again to the situation with Merlin. "Leon, I will meet you and the others at the stables in an hour. I need to take care of something first."

Leon frowned in confusion but bowed, "My, Lord."

As Arthur made his way back to the castle and Gaius' chambers he wrestled with what he should do. Trying to keep all of the things he had learned a secret from everyone including Merlin was giving him a feeling that his head would split open. He understood what the druids wanted of him, but he was unclear how to accomplish it.

If Merlin was told that he had been tended to by a village healer he would assume that this healer was in fact the druid healer that Inalira had taken her husband to. Then of course there was the matter of the travois that Arthur used to bring Merlin back to Camelot. Merlin would surly remember that and know that Arthur had taken him to the druids. This is where things got difficult. The druids were specific about this point. Merlin must never know that he was in their settlement. Nelora had given him something to make him forget, but how much would he forget? Would he remember being shot with the arrow or meeting Inalira? If he did, then Arthur could see no way to avoid Merlin realizing that Arthur had taken him to the druids.

This question had been plaguing the back of Arthur's mind since they arrived in Camelot and he was no closer to an answer than he had been before. It had been nearly three hours since he had left Merlin in Gaius' care and he knew that the physician would follow his instructions and allow no one to speak with Merlin until he had an opportunity to, but that didn't help him either. He needed to know what Merlin remembered _before_ he spoke to him. As Arthur approached the spiral staircase leading to the physician's chambers the answer to his dilemma hit him with the force of a physical blow.

"Of course! Gaius!" Arthur said, aloud.

"Sire?" The voice of a startled guard interrupted Arthur's thoughts and he turned to look at the man standing century at the base of the spiral staircase leading up the west tower of the castle.

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud." Arthur said, as he walked right past the man. He now had a course of action and was determined to see it through. The druids were specific that Arthur not divulge what he knew about Merlin to anyone, including Merlin, but what about Gaius? He already knew about Merlin and he might even know of this prophecy. He needed an accomplice in order to make this work and Gaius was the perfect choice. Just as he reached the top of the staircase he nearly ran straight into the court physician as he was stepping out of his chambers.

"Gaius."

The aging physician turned toward the sound of the voice calling his name and quickly closed the door behind him.

"How is he? Has he woken up yet?" Arthur asked.

"He did wake briefly, Sire, but he was in a great amount of pain so I gave him something fairly strong for it. I am sorry, but the medication has caused him to fall asleep again."

Arthur looked around at the corridor they were standing in then back at Gaius. "I need to speak to you privately. Will Merlin rouse if we talk in your chambers?"

Gaius looked slightly nervous by the question and said, "It is possible, but I wouldn't recommend waking him just yet, Sire."

Arthur looked around again not liking the public nature of their surroundings, nor was he willing to chance Merlin waking and listening to their conversation. "Would you please join me in my chambers. We need to discuss Merlin, and it cannot wait."

Gaius grew very pale at Arthur's words, but he nodded obediently and followed Arthur to the main castle keep. As they walked along Arthur didn't even acknowledge that Gaius was with him, because he was so deep in thought. He was trying to form a plausible alibi in his mind that would convince Merlin and everyone else for that matter that they had not seen the druid camp, but that all hinged on what Merlin remembered.

Once they arrived at Arthur's chambers they entered and the Prince closed and bolted the door behind them making Gaius blanche. Arthur saw the now open concern on the physician's face and felt a twinge of guilt. "Relax, Gaius. Merlin's secret is safe with me."

Gaius just stared at him for a moment before replying, "I have no idea what you are talking about, Sire."

Arthur didn't have time for this game. "Gaius, please sit down. This is very important and I don't have much time. I have to prepare to leave on a scouting trip to Mercia, but I cannot go until I have the situation with Merlin sorted out."

"Sire, what situation are you referring to?" Gaius asked cautiously.

Arthur shook his head. Gaius did not come to his position without making sure he was very careful about anything he said. "I know about Merlin, Gaius. I know that he has magic."

"Gaius raised his eyebrows in shock, but said nothing."

"It is a long story that I don't really have time to relay. He was dying, Gaius, so I did the only thing I could do. I took him to the druids. That is in direct violation of our laws, but if I hadn't he would be dead now. The _village_ healer I spoke of was in reality a druid healer. She saved him, but something happened. He didn't wake from his injuries. He got worse. He stopped wanting to live. Before being injured he told me about Freya, Gaius. At first I didn't realize he was talking about the druid girl who went missing. I figured that bit out later. He loved her, you know, and when she died it broke him."

Gaius' eyes widened as Arthur spoke obviously not knowing what he could say upon hearing such a tale. Arthur was unsure how much of Merlin's exploits the physician was privy to.

"I know this story is a little hard to believe, but it is true, and it gets far more unbelievable. The druids did something that I still think was monumentally foolish. They put me in mortal danger in order to elicit some kind of response from him. To their astonishment, as well as my own, this tactic of theirs is what brought him back from the brink of death. He woke up and used magic to save me."

Gaius sputtered a bit and could no longer hold his tongue. "The bandits were of the druids doing?"

"What?" Arthur asked, completely nonplussed.

Gaius looked nervous again so Arthur plowed ahead. "Look it doesn't matter. Merlin woke up just long enough to save me, but revealed his magic in the process. He was still burning up with fever. The druid council told me of an ancient prophecy. They wouldn't divulge the particulars of this prophecy, only that Merlin and I were a part of it. They said that I was not meant to know about Merlin's magic _yet_, and that my knowledge of it before it was the right time could be very dangerous. They said that if I knew about his magic before it was time for me to know, it could change the outcome. They somehow managed to persuade me to keep it secret from everyone, especially Merlin. He can't know that I know.

"But that leaves me with a huge dilemma. I don't know what he remembers. The only reason I knew that there was a druid settlement with a healer nearby was because Merlin and I met a woman taking her husband to the druids because he was gravely wounded. If Merlin remembers that, then he will figure out that I took him there. The problem is that they, the council, said he can never know he was in their camp. Nelora gave him something to make him forget, but I don't know how much he will forget."

"Nelora, Sire?" Gaius asked.

"The druid healer. I need to know what he remembers and then come up with a story that he will believe. What did he say to you when he woke up?"

Gaius stood up and began pacing as he tried to sort out everything that Arthur had just told him. "Sire, are you trying to tell me that Merlin is a sorcerer and you are all right with that?"

Arthur sighed. He couldn't blame Gaius for being so careful. "He's not a sorcerer, he is a warlock."

The gleam in the old man's eyes was all the confirmation Arthur needed that Gaius knew precisely what he was talking about, so he continued. "Apparently the distinction is not easy for non magic user to grasp. Gaius, I would never turn Merlin in to my father. He's a friend, and if the truth be told, he is my best friend. I would never betray him like that. Over the last couple of days I have learned a great deal. There is so much about magic that I don't really know. The druid people are truly amazing and my personal experience with them flies in the face of everything I have ever been taught, with one notable exception."

Gaius turned a curious face to the young Prince. "And what is that exception, Sire?"

"Oh, that would be when they tied me to a stake and set the pyre alight under my feet."

The look on Gaius' face was something that Arthur would never forget. It was the most comical conjunction of shock, amazement, disbelief and horror. "They did what, Sire!" the man said, as he sat down bonelessly in the chair again.

"Gaius, I know how that sounds, but trust me there were mitigating circumstances. I never would have been physically harmed. I didn't understand that at first, but now I do, but right now all of that is irrelevant, what did Merlin tell you when he woke up?"

"He didn't mention anything about a druid camp. He remembered the battle with Cenred's men and the bandits. He was worried that you had gotten hurt because you were outnumbered."

"Is that what you meant earlier about the druids sending the bandits?" Arthur asked, knowing full well that Merlin had used magic to even the odds that Arthur faced.

"That is the only thing that Merlin said to me when he woke so I am only guessing." Gaius replied, still not sure how this conversation was going to go.

Arthur stood up and began pacing nodding his head. "Okay so if he doesn't remember the druid camp that's good. I need to speak to him before I go, but Leon and the scouting party will be waiting for me. Gaius, I'm sorry, but I really must speak to him before I leave. I will be gone for some time, at least a week or more. Will it be safe to wake him. I won't take long, I promise."

Gaius seemed to relax a little having accepted Arthur's impassioned plea. "Sire, I know your time is short but if I am to help you I must know the actual sequence of events. The knights will not leave without you and another half an hour could make all the difference."

Arthur had to concede the point, so he sat down at the table again and told Gaius the story of the events of the last three days as they unfolded. Once he had finished Gaius sat mute for a moment taking in all that Arthur had told him.

"This simple trip has been quite the epiphany for you hasn't it?" was all he could seem to muster.

"That, would be putting it mildly, Gaius. I have a much deeper understanding of the world now, and even given the dire circumstances of this trip, I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. There is so much about magic, the laws and customs of my own kingdom, and about Merlin that I just never truly understood before. In truth, I still don't understand a lot of what I now know, but I accept that Merlin is a good man with a pure soul. He has not been corrupted by the magic that is as much a part of him as his life's blood. What I still find so astonishing and a little unsettling is this prophecy business."

Something in Gaius' eyes told Arthur that the aging physician may know more than he was letting on about the ancient druid prophecy, but there would be time to ponder that later. Right now they needed to come up with a cover story that would satisfy Merlin's natural curiosity. Arthur may never admit it aloud, but he knew that Merlin was very sharp and would notice any inconsistencies in what he was told about the time he couldn't remember.

"If Merlin remembers your encounter with Inalira he will assume that you took him to the druid camp because that happened before he was shot with the poisoned arrow. What we need to ascertain is how far back his clear memory goes. Anything else we can write off as fevered delirium. If he does indeed remember your first encounter with the druids then I can only advise that you tell him that you brought him back to Camelot as quickly as you could, bypassing the druids altogether."

"Will he believe that? I'm not sure I would. Why would I try to bring him back three days journey without first getting him help that I knew was nearby?"

Gaius thought about that for a moment. "You said that you had to leave Merlin and Inalira alone in the clearing before the druids would answer her call. You could tell him that you _did_ take him to that clearing and waited until you felt certain that the druids were not coming and then you brought him here yourself."

Arthur looked up at the physician hopefully. He should have thought of that on his own. "Yes, that would work. They nearly didn't come even when I begged them. It wasn't until Merlin stopped breathing that the leader turned up in answer to the call of the smoke."

Gaius blanched once again when Arthur mentioned how close to death his ward had come. They had taken too much time to come to the logical conclusion of what to tell Merlin and Arthur was anxious to get moving. They made their way quickly back to Gaius' chambers only to find Merlin already stirring in his sleep.

Arthur was at his side almost before Gaius could enter behind the Prince and close the door.

"Merlin? Hey, can you hear me?" Arthur asked as he gently shook the young man's shoulder.

Merlin's eyes fluttered open and it took him a moment to focus on the face hovering above his own.

"Come on you lay-about. It's about time you woke up." Arthur said, in a tone that belied the harshness of his words.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice was strangled and horse. Gaius handed a cup of water to Arthur who helped Merlin to raise his head up and take a sip of the cool liquid.

"Merlin, listen to me, now. I have to leave." This caused the young man's eyes to open wider and seemed to clear a bit of the fog away.

"Where are we going?"

Arthur had to smile at that. "_We_ are not going anywhere. You have one job, and that is to do what ever Gaius tells you, is that clear? _I _on the other hand have to go on a scouting trip into Mercia."

That announcement gave the young man the impetus to sit upright quickly causing his head to spin wildly and making him sway dangerously. If Arthur hadn't been there to hold him he would surly have toppled out of the narrow bed.

"You can't go to Mercia. They tried to kill you."

"I'll have you know that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Merlin. My duty calls for this trip and it is not a foray I would have you go on even if you were fit to travel, which you are not."

"But..."

"No buts, Merlin, you need to rest."

"How... What happened?"

Arthur couldn't have asked for a better lead in. "What do you remember?"

"I don't know. Bits and pieces that don't fit together."

Arthur glanced up at Gaius then back to Merlin. "Merlin, you were delirious with a high fever. I have told Gaius everything so he can help you fill in any blanks you may have. Just try to rest. I'll be back in a week or two. By then you should be fit enough to return to your duties."

Merlin flopped back down on the bed with a heavy sigh. "Oh goody, I can't wait to muck out the stables."

"That's the spirit!" Arthur replied with a smile.

Arthur stood up and turned to leave when he was stopped by Merlin's voice. "Don't get yourself killed out there, Arthur. I won't be there to have your back this time."

Arthur laughed at that, but his stomach did a flip flop having the feeling that Merlin's jest was foreshadowing a future he didn't want to face alone.

* * *

Grigor rechecked the protection spell surrounding the camp and re-enforced its strength. Eryl was finally sleeping soundly; the soft snores emanating from the back of the lean-to was proof enough of that. Grigor decided that it was time to listen to the advice of his mentor and clear his mind so that he could see the path that lay before them.

Grigor sat comfortably before the fire. He slowly breathed in the fresh night air allowing it to gather at his center. When he blew the air out he allowed it to take all of the tension and stress he felt with it. As he continued to breathe, Grigor began to relax each muscle in his body starting from the top of his head, down his neck and shoulders, and down through his chest and back. He felt each muscle loosen and grow lax. He concentrated on his abdomen and hips loosening the stiffness from riding all day. His legs relaxed slowly and he willed the feeling of calm to radiate down through his calfs and ankles all the way down through sore aching feet and toes.

As he slowly relaxed each muscle he imagined the stress of his concerns about Eryl and this trip move down through his body until at last all the negative energy reached his feet and bled out through the bottom of his soles. The breeze through the canopy of leaves high above his head seemed to act as a vehicle for his tension and stress. It swept it away on the whisper of wind, leaving him settled and quiet.

Grigor focused his gaze on the small flames of the campfire. He watched them flit back and forth erratically, feeling at peace with the forest surrounding him. He allowed all thought to flow like the breeze out of his mind making it completely empty. The only thing that existed were the flames of the fire. There were no sounds of rustling leaves in the trees, no sensation of heat from the flames or coolness of the night air. As his mind became a blank slate the flickering movements of the flames began to coalesce into a pattern in his mind; their movements no longer random, but rather composed themselves into an intricate pattern.

The dancing flames seemed to condense of their own accord and then suddenly erupted into a swirling torrent of sparks spinning around faster and faster. Images began to materialize within the whirlpool of burning embers. A fierce dragon breathing fire. Uniform soldiers clad in red and gold fighting in battle waged war upon other soldiers. Golden eyes flashed and seemed to see through his very soul. A kingly figure wearing a circuit of gold fighting beside a wild boar. Ancient runes depicting the four elements. A maiden with dark curled hair flowing over a servant's dress. A winged black cat with deep amber eyes. An alter surrounded by pillars of stone open to the night sky. Two silver chalices on a wooden table over looking the sea. In the middle of all of it a figure slowly emerged.

As the image drew nearer and became more focused Grigor saw a familiar face; wizened and old with white hair that reached the shoulders. Wise eyes peering out from a wrinkled face, the left one drooping slightly. It was the Secret Keeper, a figure that had appeared in many of his visions. The Secret Keeper was turning slowly in the opposite direction of the tempest of images surrounding him. He held both arms out on either side of his body. In his left hand he held a magnificent sword with a golden pommel. An inscription on the blade read "Take me up." As the Secret Keeper slowly turned Grigor was able to read another inscription on the opposite side of the blade which read "Cast me away." In his right hand he held a long wooden staff with a dragon sitting atop it clutching an oval shaped blue jewel. Carved around the top portion of the staff were the elemental symbols representing Earth, Water, Fire and Air.

A palpable energy existed within each of the objects; powerful, yet separate. It became apparent that the different images swirling around in the embers from the fire seemed drawn toward either the sword or the staff and somehow it became clear to Grigor that the Secret Keeper was acting as a bridge between them.

The Secret Keeper continued spinning slowly, but with each revolution his outline became less distinct until he was no longer recognizable though the sword and the staff remained clear. The rotation slowed at the center of the swirling tempest of other images and when it came to a halt the Secret Keeper was no longer there. Now in his place stood a scale. The sword and the staff each on one end of the scale in perfect balance, but before long the balance of the scale wavered, and it began to tip. The sword toppled and fell, tumbling through the space between itself and the staff. Grigor watched in horror as the staff was rent asunder by the blade of the sword. The two halves falling away and shattering. The sword burst into flames and the swirling images scattered in a shower of sparks and flames that burned brightly enough to momentarily blind the young seer.

When his vision cleared, Grigor found himself sitting cross legged staring down into his hands in front of the small campfire panting heavily and feeling utterly drained. Tears streaked down his face, yet he had no recollection of shedding them. The vision was powerful and more profound than any he had experienced in a long time. When he looked up Eryl sat quietly staring at him.

"Tell me about your vision."

Grigor took a moment to collect himself before his eyes opened wide is surprise. "Eryl! Why are you up? Did I awaken you?"

"The vision was disturbing?"

"What? No. Yes. It was confusing. You shouldn't be up right now. You need to sleep."

Grigor was feeling very agitated. The vision was far more convoluted than what he normally experienced. He didn't understand what all of the images meant. Some of it was fairly obvious, but there were many things that simply made no sense. The overall feeling he had from the vision was one of urgency.

"There were many images swirling around like a wind storm. In the center of it all was a very clear image. It was the Secret Keeper."

Eryl nodded his head. "The old man you have seen in the past. Have you come to the conclusion as to why you view him as a Secret Keeper yet?"

Grigor rubbed his hands over his face while shaking his head. "I am no clearer on that now than I have ever been. I only know that this man, this image refers to something hidden or confidential. In my vision the Secret Keeper was holding a sword in one hand and a staff in the other while all the other images circled him like dry leaves whipped up in an early winter storm. Both of the objects the Secret Keeper held were teeming with power. They were connected and yet separate. I got a different sense of the Secret Keeper in this vision. He was acting as a bridge or conduit between the sword and the staff. Then he changed and became a scale holding the sword and the staff in balance, but that balance was disrupted and the sword fell, breaking the staff when the two collided. When the staff was broken I felt a terrible turmoil within my heart. Is this what you have been feeling? Does this vision refer to the prophecy?"

Eryl listened closely to Grigor, but didn't seem to want to make a judgment about the vision just yet. "I do believe that your vision may well be related to the broken prophecy. I believe that the staff may well represent Emrys where the sword represents Arthur. Your visions have always taken on a different form than my own so I cannot be completely sure what everything you saw meant. Tell me what all the images you experienced are and perhaps we can decipher the message within the vision."

Grigor retold Eryl every detail of the vision. It took a while and by the time he was finished the hour was very late. Eryl remained quiet throughout the entire re-telling reserving comment until the young man had finished his tale. While Eryl seemed to be energized by his brief nap, Grigor felt drained and exhausted from the force of his vision.

The ancient seer must have sensed how Grigor felt. "Grigor, your vision is what aroused me. It was very powerful and I sensed your disquiet. It is very late and we are both very tired. Let us sleep now and discuss the vision in the morning."

Grigor easily agreed to Eryl's suggestion, but would not lay down to sleep until Eryl was settled back in the lean to covered with furs. As he lay down, Grigor couldn't help the thoughts swirling around in his head. He had never understood why the man he named the Secret Keeper appeared in his visions, but for some reason he felt trust for this figure. He had not had a vision of the Secret Keeper in quite some time, and wondered why he suddenly appeared now and in connection with the ancient druid prophecy. Thus were the nature of the young man's dreams as sleep finally claimed him.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N - **I hope everyone had a lovely holiday.

I had to break this chapter into two parts because it was prohibitively large. The second half is getting there. I just have to work out a tricky dream sequence. Those always take so many re-writes! LOL.  
Due to the action taken by the administration here at FFN I now have a major writing project that has to be fit in. Check my profile for details. Thanks for your supportive comments. I do love reading them.

**Chapter Seventeen**

Merlin didn't sleep long after Arthur left to meet Leon and the other knights. Gaius had just finished packing up his kit to go and see the members of the court who required his services, but wanted to check on Merlin first. The boy was tossing his head back and forth, and mumbling under his breath. Just as the physician sat down next to him, Merlin's eyes flew open, and he had a look of panic on his face.

"Calm down, Merlin. Everything's fine." Gaius soothed. It only took a moment for the young warlock to relax and slow his breathing. He looked around the chamber and asked, "Where's Arthur? Wasn't he was just here?"

"Arthur was here a little while ago. You dozed off a bit after he left. How are you feeling?"

Merlin hurt everywhere, but his arm was particularly painful. His head felt like it was stuffed full of wool, and every muscle in his body ached as though he had been through the most rigorous workout of his life. "I've felt better," he said, as he tried to sit up. "I'm parched. Can I get some water?"

Gaius helped him to sit upright, and shoved a few bundled blankets and the extra pillow behind Merlin's back to help support him before handing him a small cup of water. Once Merlin had finished of the cup and handed it back, Gaius decided it was time to find out what Merlin remembered.

"What happened, Merlin?" he asked, simply.

Merlin seemed confused by the question. "Didn't Arthur say that he told you everything?"

Whether or not Merlin was picking up Gaius' own knack for answering a direct question indirectly or was genuinely confused by the query was anyone's guess, but that didn't stop the physician from pursuing the matter.

"Yes, he told me what happened from his perspective, but as you well know that is not always the clearest picture of the events as they unfolded."

"I'm afraid in this case it probably is. I don't remember much after a certain point."

Gaius waited to see if the boy would continue, but when he didn't the old man prodded further. "Maybe you'd better start from the beginning then."

Merlin seemed to hesitate which surprised Gaius a little. "What's the matter?"

Merlin glanced down at his hands and looked nervous which completely confounded the physician, but he waited patiently.

"This wasn't actually a hunting trip, Gaius."

Merlin looked up into his mentor's eyes possibly wondering if he would see reproach, but was met by a completely non-plussed expression.

"I didn't mean to lie to you about it, so don't be upset. It's just that Arthur figured it would be better if both you and the King thought that we were going on a hunting trip. Uther would never approve of the trip if he knew its true purpose."

Gaius understood now why Merlin was nervous about revealing that he had told him a small fib. The lie about Freya was still fresh in both of their hearts. Merlin's mysterious non-description of the reason for the trip, however, caused the seeds of a deeper concern to touch his senses.

"Merlin," he said in a cautious but firm voice. "I think you had better tell me what this is all about."

"Arthur could tell that I've been upset lately. The other night when I finished my duties, instead of coming straight home, I just sat down on the floor in the antechamber thinking about everything. He must have realized that I hadn't left, although I don't know how. I didn't make a sound. He came in after a time, sat down next to me, and asked what was wrong. Gaius he wouldn't let it go, you know how Arthur can be, how he can dig his heels in when he wants an answer. I finally told him how I felt. How I don't belong, not here, not in Ealdor, not anywhere.

"He decided that I needed a vacation so we were going to go on a trip. I asked him how that would be a vacation if he were coming, and he actually agreed to travel where ever I wanted to go as an equal. In his own words we were to be two people without rank or station, just traveling together."

This stunned Gaius. Arthur had failed to mention this when he had spoken to him earlier. "This was Arthur's idea; to travel as equals?" he asked, incredulously.

"I know, I can scarcely believe it myself. The trip was going quite nicely until he chose a particular place to camp."

"The lake," was all Gaius said, knowing the significance of the place for Merlin.

"It was hard to look out at that water and not be overwhelmed with everything. I didn't want to talk about it, but once again Arthur was like a hound on the scent. He wouldn't let it go until I told him about Freya. I didn't tell him who she _really_ was, just her name and that she was someone very special to me. I can't believe that he got me to open up about so much. There were so many things I would never have dreamed of telling him, of all people. He makes a very effective interrogator."

Gaius nodded his head. "He would, and that is not a bad thing, at least not considering his position as head of the Knights of Camelot."

"I have to admit that I felt a lot better after I finally told him about it. It was like a burden was lifted from me. He couldn't understand, not really, but that didn't matter. He wanted to understand and that made all the difference."

Gaius smiled, feeling pleased that Arthur had been able to relieve some of Merlin's sadness. The suffering that the young man had endured had not gone unnoticed by the old physician, but there was nothing more he could do that to offer his own moral support.

"After we left the camp by the lake we moved off toward the Cliffs of Essotier. I had never seen them. We ended up racing which in turn ended in me getting wet."

Gaius once again raised his eyebrows. Arthur didn't say anything about Merlin getting wet due to a race. "What kind of race?"

"A horse race."

"You raced Arthur on horseback? Merlin, Arthur is an expert rider. You didn't stand a chance against him. How did you end up getting wet?"

"I came over a rise too quickly to stop. Arthur _did_ try to tell me, but I didn't hear him and even if I did, I doubt I could have. The horse stopped though, which sent me flying over the top of its head and over a cliff into a watering hole. Now before you get all excited, I was fine. The water was freezing, but I wasn't hurt."

Gaius looked stunned.

"Let me guess, he didn't mention that either." Merlin said, with a slight smile.

"As I said, his perspective does not always tell the whole story. Please continue."

"Honestly that is where things get a bit fuzzy for me. Everything I remember after that is fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that don't fit together. I have an odd disjointed memory of a woman and a severely injured man, but I cannot figure out where the memory comes from or even if it _is_ a memory. I seem to remember a tall and imposing figure who emanated power, but like the woman I have no reference for where that memory comes from. There is one memory that is very clear but I can't remember what happened before it or after it."

Gaius leaned forward. "And what is that memory?"

"I remember a deer. It doesn't feel like a dream, it feels like a real memory, but I don't know where the deer was or what happened after it walked up to me and I was petting it. I do know that I remember pain, lots of pain, and a feeling of suffocation. Those feelings are somehow connected to the deer, but that makes no sense.

"I also have a strong sense of fire and rain, and a dream like place filled with fog and voices. That feels more like a dream, but real at the same time. The feeling that is strongest is the sense of Arthur being in grave danger."

Gaius could tell that Merlin was fading quickly. His voice was growing hoarse and his eyelids were drooping. He re-filled the cup with water and handed it back to Merlin who winced sharply as he automatically reached for the cup with his injured arm. He switched arms immediately but the pain remained etched in his face.

"Merlin the deer was quite real. Arthur told me about it. He watched as a wild deer walked right up to you and allowed you to touch it. It was then that you were shot with a poisoned arrow. Sometimes hunters in the out lying villages will poison the arrows they use to ensure a kill even if the shot was less than perfect. The practice is outlawed in Camelot because it is so dangerous. The poison is what made you feel as though you were suffocating. The fire and rain is easily explained by the raging fever you suffered and the water that Arthur used to wipe down your brow.

"You spoke of a tall imposing figure. From the perspective of someone lying on the ground bleeding from a serious wound, and burning up with fever I am very sure that Arthur seemed like a very tall and imposing figure. The rest you can take down to delirium. The sense that Arthur was in danger was equally true. You were both attacked by a group of bandits that have been plaguing the borderlands for the past few weeks. The fact that Cenred's men also attacked made that sense of danger increase dramatically, and you yourself said that you used magic right in front of Arthur in an attempt to even up the odds. All in all you were both very lucky."

Gaius got up and after a few moments brought back another vial of pain medication. "Here, drink this. It will help with the pain."

Merlin obliged without complaint, which was evidence enough for Gaius as to the level of pain he was enduring. After getting him to drink a little more water the physician helped him to get more comfortable and pulled the thin blanket up around his shoulders. The young man was asleep before Gaius had even finished putting his supplies away.

Knowing full well that Merlin would continue to sleep after a second dose of pain and fever medication, Gaius gathered his herbal remedies and made his rounds of the court. The aging physician had a lot to think about as he moved from one courtier's chambers to another tending to the inconsequential complaints of the pampered elite in Camelot.

Merlin's account of the events leading up to the hunting accident mostly mirrored what Arthur had told him, but it was what happened after that had Gaius thinking so long and hard about the events of the past few days.

The fact that Arthur had been allowed to speak to a druid council of elders had rocked Gaius to his foundation. The druid people had always been very secretive even when magic was openly practiced throughout the realm. The fact that they had allowed an outsider into a council session when many of their own people were forbidden to attend such a gathering drove home to the court physician how serious the situation had become. It was a terrible chance these people took, especially given the fact that Arthur was the Crowned Prince of a kingdom that has outlawed any form of magic.

What was even more astounding, was the fact that this council of elders had revealed anything about the ancient druid prophecy involving Merlin and Arthur. It had taken Gaius some time after meeting Merlin to come to the realization that he might well be the warlock of that prophecy. Once he had come to understand that, he had worked tirelessly to keep Merlin safe and to teach him the importance of using his magic only for good.

Gaius knew that Uther had called a council meeting of his own, and as soon as a servant was sent to give him word that the session had concluded he was thankfully able to cut his visit with the Lady Cossett short.

"Apply this salve to the sores daily, my Lady. Also only use house shoes for the next two weeks and you should find some relief. I must now go and attend to the King."

The Lady Cossett had been trying to monopolize Gaius' time for the past few weeks with one ridiculous complaint after another. The latest complaint of painful corns on her feet was no exception. What the corns turned out to be were rough patches of dry irritated skin that developed from wearing shoes that were far too small for her pudgy appendages. Gaius would have simply given her the salve that he brought for the complaint and left except for the fact that the Lady had insisted that Gaius _show_ her how to apply the salve that he had brought.

When Gaius shut the door to the Lady's chambers he turned to the servant who had come to fetch him and laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Thank you for your superlative timing, my boy. I don't think I could have stood another minute with those feet."

His comment earned him a snicker from the young servant before the boy was off on his next errand. Gaius gladly made his way through the castle to the King's chambers to deliver the medicine for his shoulder. When he entered, the King curtly dismissed his servant and fixed Gaius with a hard stare.

"I see you made quick work of Arthur's injuries. How serious were they?" the King wanted to know.

"Sire, the Prince required a few stitches, but it was nothing that he hasn't dealt with before. The wounds were clean, having been made by the sharp blades of the soldiers rather than the dirty blades carried by the bandits."

Uther took the vial of medicine and downed it in one as Gaius moved to examine the King's shoulder for his range of motion. "What makes you think the bandits had dirty blades, Gaius?"

"Merlin had a second wound to his injured arm; one that was not made by the poisoned arrow. That wound has become infected. It was sustained when one of the bandit's blades pierced him."

"I see; so Arthur was not injured by the bandits he fought? All of his injuries were due to Cenred's soldiers?" The King asked, in a tone that was far too calm for Gaius' liking.

"It would appear so, Sire."

Uther had nothing more to say on the matter and Gaius was happy enough to leave as soon as he was finished with the King. He needed to stop by the market place to pick up some more herbs before he returned to his chambers. He moved as quickly as he could feeling that time was working against him. Merlin would be waking up soon and he wanted to make sure he had some more blackthorn to give to him.

* * *

Grigor felt tense and he and Eryl rode through the gates of Camelot and into the lower town. He tried not to look at ever single guard and soldier that they past and avoided any eye contact whatsoever with the party of knights who rode out past them as they entered the main gates.

The fact that their mere presence was enough to get them both a death sentence made him exceedingly uncomfortable. Eryl, however, showed no signs at all of being edgy. The ancient seer smiled at the people they past and nodded respectfully to the knights as they rode past.

As vulnerable as Grigor felt being in Camelot, he had to admit that the place was wondrous. It was so vibrant and full of life, with children running this way and that through the throng of peasants, young maids walking through the streets with different size bundles in their arms, people laughing, busy vendors selling their wares, streets lined with all manner of shops and a huge beautiful castle overlooking all of it. After spending so many years living in isolation in the forest with Eryl, he was naturally drawn to the hustle and bustle of Camelot and could easily get lost exploring the city.

They made their way to the large marketplace which was very crowded forcing them to dismount and look for a livery to put the horses in. Grigor stepped over to Eryl and spoke quietly.

"What happens now, Eryl?"

The old seer turned sparkling eyes full of life to the young apprentice. "You will take this purse and get us a room at the Inn and a stable for the horses. I will go and speak to the court physician."

Grigor placed a restraining hand on Eryl's arm. "You intend to enter the main castle of Camelot alone? I think that is very unwise. Eryl, just wait for me to get the room and I'll go with you."

"No, Grigor, I know Gaius even if it has been many years. I will be quite all right. You tend to our needs here. Oh and pick us up something for dinner in the market place. I never have cared much for the food at these Inns."

Grigor wanted to protest more, but wasn't given the chance as Eryl turned away from the young man and strode off toward the castle. Grigor just shook his head, took the reins of the horses and lead them away toward the edge of the marketplace in search of the public stables.

TBC

A/N: This is an interesting note that my beta brought up. Her Oxford English Dictionary defined the word "superlative" as meaning irrelevant or unnecessary. My dictionary disagrees and she looked it up again in her Cambridge English Dictionary and it defined "superlative" to mean excellent or first class, which is how it is meant in this chapter. I thought that you might find that interesting.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N - I wanted to answer a review I got, but the poster didn't sign in so there was no way for me to respond privately. See my response at the end.

I would like to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas. Please enjoy this chapter and I'll see you after the holiday.

Alice I

**Chapter Eighteen**

Eryl walked confidently through the streets of Camelot seeming to be throughly enjoying the busy atmosphere. Any who saw the figure would have assumed that Eryl had walked this route a thousand times. Once the seer reached the main courtyard, Eryl crossed to the entrance leading most directly to the west tower, again, as though this was a very familiar route. The seer smiled pleasantly at everyone bidding them a good day. As the ancient druid approached the west tower stairs a slight bow of the head in the direction of the two guards on duty seemed to be all the seer needed in order to pass uncontested. The guards were speaking to one another in low tones and never even looked up as the cloaked figure passed within inches of them. To any on-looker who was paying close attention, it would have seemed as though the guards had not even noticed the druid.

Eryl approached Gaius's chambers only to find the door slightly ajar. Pushing the door open further the druid entered and looked around at the chamber. A smile played across the weathered old face as ancient eyes took in the sight of the court physician's rooms. The extensive library of medical texts as well as all manner of scientific tomes that lined the upper walls of the chamber were a marvelous sight for Eryl to behold. Three work tables stood at different positions within the room. The table furthest from the door clearly had a dual purpose for on one end it held several glass vials as well as a heating system for potion brewing, while the opposite end sported bowls and spoons from a meal that had yet to be cleaned up. The other two tables were clearly dedicated to the use of the court physician's craft. Texts and scrolls littered the surfaces of both tables as well as all manner of herbs, potions, two mortar and pestles, and a very complicated looking contraption with odd shaped glass containers and looping tubes leading from one section to the next within the device.

A soft moan drew Eryl's attention to the fireplace and a short bed where Merlin lay. His head was tossing back and forth indicating that the young warlock was caught in the throws of some nightmare. The ancient seer steeped over carefully to the bed and bent low over the feverish young man, placing a wrinkled hand upon the heated brow. Eryl was immediately assaulted with a whirlwind of images.

If there had been any lingering doubts in the recesses of the ancient druid's mind as to the true identity of the young man before him, they were washed away in a sea of certainty. Not unlike the skill that Nelora possessed, Eryl could see images and the feelings associated with them when in physical contact with someone. Eryl's mind was awash with scenes from the young man's mind that primarily concerned Arthur Pendragon. The young Prince was climbing a steep wall pursued by evil and led by a glowing orb of blue light. A questing beast hovered over the fallen Prince, blood dripping from it's gaping maw. Two snakes emerge from a shield of an opponent in battle with the young Prince. These images all had a feeling of fear or urgency. The clear image of a great dragon captured the seer's attention but unlike the other flashes of vision this one had mixed emotions connected to it. He felt a strong anger almost akin to hatred, suspicion, and yet at the same time an underlying belief and trust.

The cup of life held by the sorceress Nimueah made Eryl's heart skip a beat. The cup had long been sought out by the druids to collect and protect. Flashes of a battle of magic Emrys and Nimueah in a courtyard of grass and stone told Eryl the story of how the sorceress ultimately fell before the power of warlock. The face of a beautiful young woman with long dark hair appeared more than once and the feeling associated with her was that of deepest grief. This must be the druid girl, Freya, that the council had told him about. A peaceful lake also appeared frequently always in association with Freya and again the feeling was one of sorrow.

Many more images of beasts, places, and different people ran across Eryl's consciousness that a long meditation would be needed to try and sort them all out. The strongest feeling underlying everything was a combination of fear and uncertainty, and a strong feeling that Arthur was in danger. All of the images that Eryl saw, ultimately came back to the Prince and an intense need to protect him.

The contact became nearly unbearable for the ancient druid as the nightmarish dreamscape exploded in a frenzy of emotion. Eryl closed his eyes and concentrated; emanating a wave of peaceful energy that flowed like a gentle breeze over the young warlock calming his fevered murmurings. This young man was barely more than a boy, younger than Grigor, and yet the fate of an entire kingdom rested on his shoulders. He had so much yet to learn that it seemed an insurmountable task, and yet Eryl knew that this young man was destined to fulfill the ancient prophecy, as long as he lived long enough to do so.

* * *

Gaius was tired after leaving Uther, but he still needed to go to the marketplace. He made the trip as quickly as he could, wanting to get back to his chambers and tend to Merlin, who should be waking soon. When he opened the door to his chambers he stopped short when he saw a cloaked figure step over to his ward and place a hand on his head.

The court physician could hear Merlin panting and moaning in a fevered delirium, but his fear escalated at the sight of the intruder. Without any thought to his own safety or the fact that he was an old man recklessly approaching an unknown and possibly dangerous assailant, Gaius dropped his bag and moved quickly into the room.

"What are you doing? Get away from him!"

Much to the physician's surprise the figure raised an arm with one finger extended in a clear sign to wait for a moment. Gaius was about to call out to the guards, but his voice died in his throat as he watched Merlin calm under the stranger's touch. A moment later the figure straightened up and began to turn around.

"Who are you?" was all Gaius could think to ask as he tried to see past the cloaked figure at his patient.

As the figure turned to face Gaius two weathered old hands reached up and lowered the hood of the cloak, and Gaius found himself staring into ancient yet familiar eyes.

"Do you not remember me, old friend?"

Gaius stared at the figure before him a moment longer as recognition made his eyes open wide. "Eryl, is that you?"

The two approached each other and embraced warmly.

Gaius, mindful of the still open door turned around and moved swiftly to close it making sure it latched closed tightly. In a low voice he asked, "What brings you here to Camelot? Surly you know how dangerous it is for you to be here."

Eryl's eyes become very serious. "The prophecy is broken, Gaius, but I fear you may already know this."

Gaius indicated that they should take a seat at his work bench. "I'm afraid you have me at a loss. I know, no such thing. What I do know is that Merlin nearly died, and in an attempt to save him the druid council made a serious decision concerning Prince Arthur. The end result was that Merlin responded as they had hoped, but revealed his secret in the process."

Eryl sighed and nodded. "Arthur Pendragon was not meant to know of Emrys' magic, not at this time. I have spoken with the druid council and they explained what they did in an attempt try to rectify the damage, but I'm afraid it has only delayed the inevitable."

Gaius knew of Eryl's sight and how powerfully accurate it was. It was Eryl's direct ancestor who divined the prophecy of Emrys in the first place. "What are you talking about, what is inevitable?"

"The death of Emrys."

Gaius felt as though his heart had stopped. He had no breath in his lungs and found it impossible to form any sort of reply. Merlin was not just his ward, not any longer. The aging physician had come to view Merlin as a son and cared for him as deeply as he would any child of his own. The thought that his demise had been foreseen by someone like Eryl felt like a death sentence that could not be avoided. After taking a few deep breaths Gaius was able to find his voice.

"You have seen his death in a vision?"

Eryl's expression never changed. "I have; sometime within the next year."

Gaius felt as though someone had punched him in the midriff. It was incomprehensible that he was going to lose Merlin, now. He would do anything necessary to prevent his death. "Is there nothing that can be done to save him?"

Eryl took a moment to answer as the ancient seer looked at Gaius as though seeing through him. "You have love for the boy?"

Gaius nodded. "He is as a son to me, Eryl. I would gladly give my life for him as if he were of my own flesh and blood."

Eryl smiled at him which threw Gaius completely off guard. He could not see why anything that had been said between them could be cause for smiling.

"I am pleased to be able to tell you that no such sacrifice will be necessary."

Gaius was still a little stunned by Eryl's pronouncement. The seer's visions had never been wrong to the best of his knowledge. "I don't understand. If you have seen this, seen Merlin's death, how can it be prevented?"

"There is nothing that _you_ can do, Gaius. The only person who can change Emrys' fate is Arthur Pendragon. It is the knowledge that the Prince possesses that has caused the prophecy to change, and will ultimately lead to Emrys' death."

Gaius shook his head. He found this extremely difficult to believe. He had always assumed that eventually Arthur would know of Merlin's magic. It had to be kept a secret now while Uther was King, but Arthur was not his father. Arthur would understand, and indeed he did understand. He had accepted Merlin even though he now knew of his magic. He was willing to go along with the ruse of ignorance to prevent Merlin from knowing that his secret was out. None of this made sense.

"Eryl, I do not mean to question your vision, or your conclusions, for I am well aware of how powerful those visions are, but I don't see how the Prince knowing about Merlin will cause his death. I know for an absolute fact that Arthur would never turn Merlin into the King. He told me this himself."

"I believe you, old friend. I also believe that the young Pendragon would never knowingly do anything that would result in harm coming to Emrys. We are aware of the strength of the bond between them. The events that will ultimately lead to Emrys' death have more to do with the difference in how the Prince perceives his servant now that he has this knowledge."

"How does it happen?" Gaius wanted to know.

"I only know that if we do not act now, Emrys will die a violent and brutal death. It is a death that would not have occurred if Prince Arthur was unaware of his magic. The vision is incomplete but very powerful. This can mean only one thing; that the vision is not irrevocable. It _can_ be changed. That is why the details of the event are not clear."

Gaius felt as though a weight had suddenly been lifted from his heart. "So there is hope?"

"Gaius, there is always hope. This is a situation that can be resolved, but we will need the cooperation of Prince Arthur."

Gaius frowned as he stared at his old friend. The ancient druid had spoken in riddles for as long as Gaius had known Eryl, but this didn't sound like a riddle. He, nevertheless, had no idea what Eryl was suggesting.

"What is it that Arthur can do to resolve this new prophetic vision?"

Eryl sat back a little on the stool and sighed. "He will need to agree to purge his memory of the events surrounding his discovery."

Gaius wondered if he had heard the seer correctly. "How is that even possible? How does a man choose to forget something so monumental?"

"I can preform an ancient spell from the old religion that will do just that, but only if the Prince willing submits to the incantation."

Gaius didn't doubt that Eryl could preform such magic, but he did not believe that Arthur would ever willing submit. "The events of this trip have dramatically altered Arthur's views of magic, in a very beneficial manner. To make him forget, will be to wipe out all of the progress that he has made emotionally over the last few days."

For the first time in all the years that Gaius had known the druid he saw real anger flash in the ancient seer's eyes. "That is extremely regrettable. The council of elders who decided to put Arthur Pendragon's life at risk in an attempt to save Emrys have seriously damaged the balance and the natural order of the prophecy. Arthur was meant to experience his time with the druid community. Those experiences were meant to help mold his perceptions of magic and how it is used, but he was never meant to learn of Emrys' power, not in this way or at this time. The only hope we all have, is to salvage what we can.

"Arthur Pendragon will still learn of the true nature of magic. Even I cannot say how that will happen now. What I can say with absolute certainty is that it will _not_ happen if Emrys is not here to guide him to that point in time. Emrys is not only the young Pendragon's magical guardian, ensuring that he lives to take the throne. He is the Prince's moral guardian as well. It is through Arthur Pendragon's friendship with Emrys that his views will be changed. As I have said, they are bound together, but only so long as they both live."

Gaius stood and began to pace. It was a habit he seemed to have picked up from Merlin. "I still do not know how it is possible to make Arthur forget. How will he explain that he has no memory of the trip he and Merlin took? There are other considerations to take into account. After Arthur and Merlin left the druid camp to come back to Camelot they were attacked by Cenred's men. The King has sent a dispatch to Mercia about this attack. Arthur isn't even in Camelot at the moment. He and a small number of knights have gone on some sort of secret mission into Mercia. I believe they are to try and gauge how battle ready Cenred's army is."

Eryl shook his head. "These are minor details in comparison to the problem at hand, old friend. A simple thump on the head could account for lost memory. You must speak with the Prince when he returns and explain to him that I am here and must speak with him privately."

Gaius came back to the workbench and sat down. "He will be gone for some time, Eryl. He indicated that it could be a couple of weeks before his return."

"My apprentice and I are staying at the Inn in the lower town. We will wait for as long as we need to, but you must understand; it is imperative that Arthur Pendragon come to see me. I will make sure he understands what the implications are. I must count on you to make Prince Arthur understand how vital this meeting is to both of their futures."

Eryl looked over at Merlin before speaking again. "What does he remember?"

"Thankfully, nothing much, or at the least nothing that cannot be explained."

Eryl turned sharp eyes on Gaius clearly wanting the physician to elaborate.

"Merlin did say that he had a strong sense of fire and rain, but being delirious with fever is an excellent cover for what he remembers. I will come to see you tomorrow. Stay at the Inn and out of sight. I fear for your safety here in Camelot."

Eryl smiled slightly at the physician's comment. "You sound like Grigor, my apprentice. There is no need to fear for me, my friend. Uther Pendragon would never know I was in Camelot, even if he were to sit next to me with a goblet of mead at the tavern. I will leave you to tend to your patient. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

With that the druid stood and stepped over to the door. "Until we meet again."

Gaius still felt concerned for Eryl, but he understood why it was so important for the seer to wait for Arthur's return. He had no doubt that Eryl could avoid the guards notice, and so put the matter out of his mind as he got up and moved to the bed where Merlin lay to check on his fever.

* * *

The day dawned bright and clear, and Gaius woke to find Merlin sitting up in the small bed by the cold fireplace looking around with a slightly confused look on his face. His color was much better and he looked as though he had finally broken the fever.

"Good morning," the court physician said, by way of greeting.

"Speak for yourself. My head feels like someone has used it for target practice with a mace." Merlin answered, miserably.

Gaius couldn't help but smirk at the picture that formed in his mind. "Well you may have a headache, but you look much better than you did yesterday. How does your arm feel?"

Merlin flexed his fingers and drew in a sharp breath as pain shot through his arm. "Like I have been shot with a crossbow."

Gaius grabbed some supplies to change the bandage and cleanse the wound. As he unwrapped the dressing he was pleased to see that the infection was markedly improved. Merlin made quite a sour face when he saw his injury in the bright morning sunlight, however. Once Gaius was satisfied with his ministrations he instructed Merlin to just sit quietly while he started a fire to heat up some water for tea.

"I'd like to get cleaned up and move back to my own bed if that is all right." Merlin said.

"I want you to eat something first, Merlin. You have a long way to go before you get your strength back. It has been quite a long time since you have eaten anything and you won't heal without proper nourishment. I'll start you on some broth and bread and see how that sits with you."

Merlin wasn't hungry at all, but he knew there would be no point in arguing with Gaius so he just leaned back and waited.

As it turned out Merlin's appetite came back with a vengeance as soon as he began to eat, and before he realized it, he had finished off two bowls of broth and three pieces of bread. The mere act of eating had completely wiped the young man out, however, and he felt the need to lie down and get some sleep immediately afterward. He cradled his arm protectively against his stomach as he stumbled up the short flight of steps that led to the room he normally occupied. Before Gaius had even finished clearing away the dishes and packing up his rounds kit, Merlin was fast asleep.

Luckily Gaius only needed to see a few of the courtiers that morning. He was eager to go to the Inn to see Eryl again, if for no other reason than to let the ancient druid know that Merlin was making very good progress in recovering from his injuries. By the time Gaius found his way down to the lower town the marketplace and streets were crowded and busy. When he entered the Inn he spied Eryl easily enough and walked over to the table where the druid and a young man sat in the corner.

Much to the court physician's surprise Eryl's young apprentice stood up quickly as he approached; the young man looking like he had seen a ghost as the color drained from his face. Before Gaius could ask if he was feeling well, the boy fainted dead away falling with a loud thump where he stood.

**TBC**

_NaomiLithe 2010-12-05 . chapter 17_

_Although you have a clear and fluid style of writing, which is an absolute pleasure to read, I often find that there are one too many missing commas. One would be needed here, as shown in brackets:_

_"Merlin looked up into his mentor's eyes(,) possibly wondering if he would see reproach, but was met by a completely non-plussed expression."_

_Although its absence wasn't such an issue with this sentence, there have been previous occasions when punctuation has been lacking and I've had to go back and start the sentence over, sometimes repeatedly, so that I could understand WHO was doing WHAT and WHEN with WHICH feeling. (Using the previous example to loosely illustrate this, one might consider that the EYES were "possibly wondering", because the separation is not indicated in the form of a comma._

_I'm only pointing it out because I think you're perfectly capable of rectifying the issue; I normally wouldn't bother with a 'fresher' author. I hope you don't think of this as a flame, that certainly wasn't my intent. I wish you the best of luck with your future writing endeavours!_

_

* * *

_

Hello, Naomi. I would have invited you to join the group of betas that I use. Actually for the last three or four chapters I have only had one beta. It is a busy time of year. If you want to log in the next time you review I can respond to your comments more effectively. I am not the best with things like commas. I have often been told I use too many of them. The invitation remains open. Please feel free to contact me if you would like to give these chapters a quick once over for things like comma placement.

One other quick question: is "endeavours" a British spelling of the word?


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Both Gaius and Eryl looked at each other stunned, then back at the supine figure of Eryl's apprentice.

"Remarkable, I don't usually have that effect on people." Gaius said, as he moved to assist the young man.

Eryl poured a goblet of water from a pitcher that was sitting on the table and calmly handed it to Gaius who was lightly slapping Grigor's face in an attempt to revive him.

Grigor's eyes fluttered open and the young man found himself staring up into a very familiar face. "It's you; you're real."

Gaius opened his eyes wider in surprise. "Yes, I can assure you that I am quite real, although I don't believe we have ever met before."

Grigor sat up and accepted the water that the court physician offered. After taking a swallow he looked around and felt his face flush bright red. He quickly got up off the floor slopping water from the cup as he rose. The young man was altogether flustered and sheepishly bowed his head.

Grigor had attracted the attention of the inn's patrons as well as the inn keeper, Tom. "Gaius, is all well here?" Tom asked, as he approached the trio.

Gaius turned to speak to the inn keeper who had been a patient on many occasions. "Yes, Tom. My friend here is just feeling a little piqued. Perhaps you could send Jeremy up to the room with some warm mead and honey?"

"Certainly."

"How is the boy doing?" Gaius asked, conversationally as Eryl and Grigor moved from around the table to head toward the stairs leading up to the inn's rooms.

"Right as rain thanks to you, Gaius. He has even begun to gain some weight back. I'll send him up to you right away."

Grigor still looked mortified, but Eryl wore a knowing smile. Gaius had very smoothly diverted the attention away from Grigor while at the same time subtly reminding the inn keeper that he was in the court physician's debt. Eryl was certain that Tom would refuse to answer any prying questions about them. The druid also knew that as they were now established friends of Gaius, any undue curiosity would be reported to them as well.

Once the group had entered the room that Eryl and Grigor had rented and the door was firmly latched Eryl began to chuckle softly. "That was nicely handled, old friend."

Gaius returned a look of innocence. "I'm sure I have no idea what you are referring to, Eryl." Gaius then turned to Grigor, and satisfied that the young man's color had returned to normal sat down on a short stool across from his perch on the bed. "I don't believe we have been properly introduced. My name is Gaius. I am the court physician here in Camelot."

Grigor flushed red again, but remembered his manners. "My name is Grigor. Please forgive my alarm upon seeing you. I suspected that you were a mere fantasy that my mind had dreamed up, but now I see that you are real."

Gaius looked on completely non-plussed while Eryl stood silently in the corner of the room observing the interaction between Grigor and Gaius.

A soft knock at the door drew everyone's attention. Eryl opened up the door and looked at a young boy no more than twelve years old holding a try with a pitcher of mead, a jar of honey and three cups.

"Your mead and honey, sir," he said, with a bow of his head.

Eryl motioned for the lad to come in and set the try down on the small table in the room. While Jeramy did this Gaius got up and approached him. "Well you _are_ looking very well indeed young man."

Jeramy looked up and smiled at the court physician. "I am doing much better thank you." Before Jeramy left Eryl pressed a gold coin into his hand. Jeramy looked at it with wide eyes. "I can't take this, Sir. It is my job to bring you your tray."

Eryl smiled down that the child. "Yes it is your job, and this is your compensation for your service. I would like to have a tray of dinner brought back later, and I know I can trust you to see to my needs as I have them."

Jeramy nodded vigorously. "Yes, Sir. If there is anything you need you just tell me. I will come back with dinner in a few hours."

Once Jeramy had left Gaius turned back to Grigor and asked him how he had come to be Eryl's apprentice.

"Eryl came to my village when I was a young boy, and after my parents were killed, took me on as an apprentice. I have long known your face, seeing it countless times through the years in visions. I never knew for sure whether or not you were real. I have come to think of you as 'The Secret Keeper' for that is the role you have played in every vision I have had. To come face to face with someone whom I previously thought of as a mere figment of my own mind was... unsettling."

"I can well imagine it would be. It is a bit unsettling to me that I am a a product of anyone's visions. How long have you experienced these visions?" Gaius wanted to know.

Grigor glanced over to his mentor who nodded imperceptibly. "I have had odd dreams for as long as I can remember. Sometimes those dreams come true, but most of the time I didn't understand what the dreams were about, that is, until Eryl took me in as an apprentice. I have seen your face many times. You have always been surrounded by mystery in my visions, hence the title of 'Secret Keeper' that I came to think of you as."

Gaius looked back at Grigor weighing what the young man had said. He did indeed hold many secrets with him, more than he cared to count. "What manner of secrets have you seen associated with me?"

Grigor didn't seem surprised by the question, but he was unsure how much he wanted to answer. This man could easily turn both he and Eryl in to the king. Once again he looked to Eryl but didn't seem to receive any sort of indication from the ancient druid as to how he should proceed.

"I have seen many different things. There was something to do with the birth of a child and the death of that child's mother. I do not know who the child is, but I know that he is someone very important. I also got the strong sense that you know how this child's mother died or perhaps why she did. You were charged to keep the circumstances of that birth secret. I don't really know what the vision is about, only that it is something pivotal to the future."

Gaius raised his eyebrows high at this. It was obvious to him that this young man had a vision concerning Arthur's birth and his mother's subsequent death. "What other visions have you seen?" the physician, asked curious to know how much Grigor knew of his role in the history of Camelot.

"I saw another child who was in danger. You saved this child at great risk and made a promise to someone concerning the child. I have seen you help many escape the fires of the Great Purge. I have seen you associated with a great beast, and with a man who was connected to the beast. I saw you in a clearing with a stone alter..."

Eryl stepped forward and caught Grigor's eye causing the young man to stop speaking. Gaius turned to look at Eryl with a question in his eyes. Gaius knew better than to ask for clarification. He had known the druid for a long time and the stone hard face Eryl turned toward Grigor told Gaius that he would not hear more.

"As I said, I have seen many visions with you, but to see a vision and to understand that vision are two very different things."

Gaius felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. This young man may not understand what he has seen, but Gaius now knew that the boy had far more information about his past than anyone who knew him, possibly. Gaius looked over again at the druid who had moved back to his place standing in the corner observing the scene with wide eyes only to have his gaze met squarely.

"Grigor has shown more promise than any I have seen in a very long time. This is why I took him on as my apprentice." was all Eryl said by way of reply to Gaius' unspoken question.

"Yes, I can see that, but we are not here to talk about me or my past."

Eryl nodded. "That is correct." The old druid moved over and sat down on the bed next to Grigor. "We discussed the issue with Arthur Pendragon, but it seems to me that you have some questions as to how we can make the situation work, Gaius"

Gaius shook his head. "I understand what you have said Eryl, but I still do not understand how we will be able to explain Arthur's loss of memory. As I have already told you, there are aspects of Arthur's return to Camelot that have far reaching consequences and are already known to both the King as well as all the knights of Camelot."

Grigor looked between the two and interjected. "Excuse me, I am a bit lost here. What is it that has happened? Where is the Prince now?"

Gaius gave Grigor a brief recap of what had happened and explained what Arthur knew and told him of the conversation that he had with the Prince before he left for Mercia with his small group of knights.

"If upon returning to Camelot, Arthur suddenly losses his memory of the trip he and his servant took, that would be very hard to explain, most especially by Arthur who would stop at nothing to explain it. Such an event could and most likely would be considered an act of sorcery by the King and that would put both of you at enormous risk as well as anyone else the King may suspect."

Grigor stood up and began pacing back and forth. "What if the Prince were to meet with an accident while out on his scouting mission? A blow to the head could easily explain any memory lapses."

Gaius sighed. "The problem with that plan is how to accomplish such a circumstance. Arthur must speak to Eryl and be made to understand the nature of the problem, and then he must agree to the incantation. How can that happen when we have no idea where he is?"

Grigor slowed in his pacing and turned toward Eryl. "I could find him. You know it is possible, I have done it before."

Gaius frowned as he looked between the druids. "Find him? What do you mean?"

Eryl nodded to the young man before turning back to Gaius. "Grigor has a unique ability. With the proper preparation he can enter a trance and physically locate someone. It takes an enormous amount of concentration and effort, but it is possible. Grigor is the only person I have ever met who can scry this way without the aide of a crystal or reflective pool."

Gaius looked at the young man appreciatively. That was a rare gift indeed. "I still do not see how that will help us. Arthur is not alone. He has several of his best knights with him. This is not something that can be done in their presence."

Grigor smiled at that. "That will be tricky, but I have an idea that should work. If I can find the right opportunity, a time when the Prince is alone, I can enchant him to follow me."

Gaius thought that he must have heard Grigor incorrectly. "I beg your pardon?"

"I will bring him back to Eryl and release him from the enchantment. Once Eryl has convinced him of the need for this measure and the incantation is complete I will enchant him once again and take him back where his knights will find him and make sure he is provided with a reasonable lump on his head to explain the memory loss."

Gaius looked at Grigor as though he had grown two heads. "Are you mad?"

"Very possibly, but unless you have a better idea I don't see that we have a lot of choice."

Gaius looked from one druid to the other. Grigor sat down again next to his master and Gaius stared hard at them both. "Is there no way to simply remove just a small portion of Arthur's memory, Eryl. The part that concerns the druid camp and Merlin's magic?"

Eryl shook his head. "I am afraid it doesn't work like that old friend. We all think in associations. If Arthur remembers the trip he took with his servant then that will tie into the experiences of the trip. For this to work Arthur must give up his memory of the entire trip. When he wakes up afterward his men will have to explain what they are doing in Mercia. He will have no recollection of the reasons for being there. There really is no other way. I must agree with you, Gaius that if Arthur were to loose that much memory after returning to Camelot there would be no way to explain it. I'm afraid Grigor is right and this is the most viable means of accomplishing our goal."

"If Grigor is caught he will be executed." Gaius pointed out, hoping that they could come up with a safer plan.

Grigor looked at Gaius and the court physician saw the determination in his eyes as well as a healthy helping of fear. "It is what must be done."

Gaius sighed and bowed his head. "All right, but let me make a suggestion. I will write a message to Arthur explaining that he must return to Camelot with you without his men's knowledge. I will say that Merlin's life depends on this. There will be no need to enchant him until after he has agreed to have his memory altered. I will make up a potion that you can take with you, Grigor. If you can slip it to the knights with Arthur, it will knock them out long enough to show him the message and get him to agree to come back with you. Do you think you can manage that?"

Grigor smiled broadly. "That will work very well. I should have no problem giving the potion to the other knights."

"How long before you will know where to find Arthur?"

Grigor looked less certain, but he raised his chin. "I will begin to prepare myself now. With luck I will be ready to leave by sundown."

Gaius stood and turned for the door. "I will be back before sundown then." He inclined his head to the druids before turning back to the door. As he left the room he thought to himself, _'I suppose this would qualify as one more of those secrets that I am keeping.'_

**TBC**

**A/N -** Thank you for your patience. The holidays were very busy and then other things occurred to keep me tied up fairly well. The next chapter should be easier to write, now that I have worked out how this bit with Arthur was going to work. My betas were busy so this was reviewed by me, thus any mistakes are my own.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** I'll bet everyone thought this story had died a natural death. I am dedicating the next few months to clearing up these open stories I have plaguing my hard drive. If anyone is still reading, my apologies for letting this story waver for so long. I am currently working on all three of my open stories so hopefully by the end of Lent I will be caught up on all of them.

**Chapter Twenty**

When Merlin woke it was with a sense of confusion. The light was wrong. In the morning the sunlight streamed in through his high window spilling over his face. Now the light was on the wrong side of the room indicating mid to late afternoon. A momentary flash of panic gripped the young warlock and he sat bolt upright in bed.

_Arthur is gonna kill me!_

Throwing the covers off of him caused sharp hot pain to flair through his arm and he looked down at it frowning. There was a bandage covering it. As he turned his hand to look at the underside of his forearm he saw clearly that the bandage was stained with old blood as well as a yellowish brown. Merlin stared at the bandage on his arm in stunned fascination for a moment as he willed the panicked feeling to abate.

_I'm not late, I was injured... in a battle, I think. Wait a minute, Arthur and I were... camping?_

The young man struggled to clear his mind. Something felt off. He knew that there was something he should be remembering, but he couldn't quite figure it out.

_Arthur and I went on a trip, I remember that. Hunting? No that's not it... but that's what I told Gaius and what Arthur told the King, but it wasn't a hunting trip._

Merlin climbed out of bed gingerly and stood up. He felt dizzy and decided that he should probably sit down for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.

_Gaius. Didn't I speak with him? Why can't I remember clearly?_

"Okay, Merlin, think this through," he said to himself aloud. "I am clearly injured. When did that happen? If I didn't go hunting with Arthur then how did I get hurt?"

I flash of fragmented memory came and left as quickly. Merlin had the image of a deer in his mind, but he couldn't remember what it meant. He had a strong feeling that it had something to do with his injury, but he couldn't place the time or circumstance.

"This is ridiculous. I know that I left Camelot with Arthur. I.. Urgh!"

Merlin raised his good arm up and ran his hand through his hair. He wrinkled his nose at the smell coming from himself.

_I smell terrible! What I need right now is a bath, more than anything else. Maybe then I will be able to think properly._

The young man carefully made his way down the short flight of steps from his room into the common area of the court physician's chambers. He felt heady and awkward and he half walked, half stumbled around the partition to the small tub that Gaius kept for bathing. The tub was empty as was that large watering pail next to it.

The thought of walking down to the common well several times in order to bring back enough water in which to get cleaned up seemed an insurmountable task, but after another sniff of his clothing decided that the effort was worth it. He reached down and picked up the bucket with his good hand and moved toward the door.

His progress was slow, but determined. Merlin used magic to make the bucket less heavy when it was filled with water, but not so much as to be noticed by anyone who might be watching a servant going about his normal duties. It took Merlin the better part of half an hour to bring back three full buckets of water. After upending the third bucket into the tub he found it was only a third of the way filled with water. He stood there, his strength waning, wondering if it would be enough to get him properly cleaned.

The tub was small compared with the one Arthur used and the water was cold. The young man heaved a sigh and bent over to pick the bucket up once again. _One more bucket will have to do it_, he thought to himself. He cleared his mind of the fatigue he felt and ignored the throbbing, burning sensation in his arm.

_I can do this, and I'll feel so much better once I am clean._

Merlin didn't really remember the trip down to the well for the fourth time. He bent his head to the task of pumping the handle of the well to get water out, not paying any attention to his surroundings. As water splashed over the rim of the now full bucket sending chilly water down his pant leg and into his boots he came out of the dazed fog he had been in. He jumped back away from the bucket stumbling over his own feet sending him backward and landing with a hard thump on his backside. The bucket tipped over spilling its contents all over him.

"Merlin!"

The familiar voice stopped the cry of startled pain in his throat. He turned at looked at Gwen who had just approached with her own bucket.

"Gwen! I... umm, hi."

She rushed forward, concern written all over her face. "Are you all right?"

Merlin looked up at her through fevered eyes, but still managed a lopsided grin. "I'm fine, I guess," he said, as he disentangled his foot from the rope handle of the bucket.

She squatted down and turned the now empty bucket upright. "What are you doing? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Merlin's cheeks turned a bright red that was evident even past the fevered glow that flushed his face. "I need a bath, although I hadn't planned on anything quite so public," he said sheepishly.

Gwen reached out her hand to help him up. Once he gained his feet a wave of dizziness washed over him and he wobbled precariously on his feet. "Oh, Merlin, you had better sit down."

Gwen guided him over to a short bench set next to the well. Merlin's embarrassment took a sharp upswing when he saw her turn her head away as the scent from his clothes assaulted her. "Ahem, yes you _do_ need a bath. Let me help you."

She quickly filled both his bucket as well as hers, while Merlin sat quietly trying to get the buzzing in his head to go away.

"Where is Gaius? Why didn't he send for me or one of the other household servants? You really shouldn't be doing this on your own."

Merlin looked up as the later afternoon sun washed over his face making him look even paler under the flush of the fever. "I've no idea. I imagine he is doing his rounds, or attending to some courtier or something. I woke up and realized that I needed to... well... I guess I should have waited for... No one was around so I came myself."

Gwen smiled down at her friend's rambling reply. She stepped over the wall and took one of the yolks that leaned against it. She positioned each bucket three feet apart and with one smooth motion hoisted them up on the yolk that now rested on her shoulders.

"Wait, Gwen, I should..."

She cut him off before he could finish. "Are you serious? Merlin I have no designs on having a public bath myself, and you are in no condition to carry these buckets. Come on then, let's get you back home."

Merlin couldn't fault her logic and he was so wiped out he couldn't muster an argument that would hold any weight, so he simply rose from the bench and followed the girl.

"Merlin, what happened to you and Arthur? I know that he was also injured and now he has gone off to Cenred's kingdom to do something. I know that the King is furious, but I couldn't find out anything else."

Merlin felt as though the ground shook at Gwen's words. "Arthur was injured? How? Is he all right?"

Gwen frowned at him, "That's what I am asking you, don't you remember anything. Arthur's fine, or else he wouldn't have gone off with the knights, but it seems as though all of the knights and guards are on some sort of alert. Only the citadel guards are left here in Camelot."

Merlin tried to remember, but for some reason everything was fragmented, and he knew that shouldn't be. He knew that he had spoken to Gaius, but he couldn't remember what he had said to the court physician.

"I think that maybe we were attacked, I have this sense that there was a battle or a fight in the forest. Gwen, I know I spoke with Gaius, but now it all seems so... I'm not sure how to describe it. I feel like my head is full of cotton."

Gwen glanced at Merlin and carefully held out one slender hand to touch his face without spilling the buckets she had balanced on the yolk over her shoulders.

"You are fevered, it isn't a wonder that you don't remember things clearly."

They had reached the spiral staircase leading up to the court physician's chambers and Gwen bent low to set the buckets down, and lifted each one in her strong hands.

"Here let me help you with that," Merlin offered.

"And have you drop one of them down the stairs? You just get the door open for me at the top."

Merlin nodded and proceeded up the stairs holding the wall as he moved. Once inside Gwen poured both buckets into the tub.

"Wait, what about you? Don't you need your water?"

"I am perfectly capable of fetching another bucket from the well, Merlin, and besides I need to return the yolk. Are you going to be all right here alone. I could come back and help you..."

Gwen stopped short.

"Ehh, thanks, but I think I can handle taking a bath on my own." He could feel his cheeks getting brighter red and was relieved to see the same happen to Gwen."

"Yes well, right, of course, I didn't mean to... I mean it's not that I want to... ,I'll let you get to it; that is... your bath."

Gwen was completely flustered now, but after a moment she looked up more seriously at her friend. "Merlin, I'll come by to check on you later. I could get one of the household man servants to..."

Merlin just shook his head. "I'll be fine, Gwen, really. Thanks for your help."

Merlin meant it. The tub was properly filled now and he was eternally grateful for her assistance. After an awkward goodbye, Merlin closed and latched the door just in case Gwen decided to send in one of the male servants against his protests. Looking around once more just to be sure he was alone, Merlin held his hand over the tub of cold water and mumbled a spell as his eyes glowed bright gold, heating the water. Once he had removed his clothing he stepped in he slid gratefully down into the warm water. He allowed it to relax over-taught muscles and sooth aches he hadn't even realized he felt.

Merlin made quick work of soaping up those places he could easily reach and used a simple spell to reach his back with the cloth. His arm was throbbing and he ended up removing the soiled bandage to get a better look at the injury. He could see that it was infected and the wound went all the way through his arm. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what had happened to cause such a wound. He winced and hissed through his teeth as he gingerly wiped it with the cloth.

He wasn't sure submersion in the soapy water was a good idea for his wound so he carefully rested his arm on the side of the tub as he slid down a little further into the tub of now soapy water. Merlin laid his head back against the edge; the warmth of the water and the fatigue brought on by the exertion of multiple trips to the well made his eyelids heavy.

_I'll just rest for a moment before I get out and find some clean clothes._ He thought to himself.

The young warlock was jarred awake by insistent pounding on the chamber door and Gaius' frantic voice. "Merlin! Are you there? Why is the door locked?"

Merlin sat up quickly making his head spin slightly as water slopped out of the tub and onto the floor. He'd forgotten that he had locked the door but now he was stiff from his position and wasn't sure he could even make it to the door.

"Gaius?" he called out in a voice that was weaker than he thought it should be.

"Merlin, thank heavens. Are you all right?"

"Are you alone?" the young man called as he stood up gingerly reaching for the towel that was hanging from a peg by the tub.

"Of course I am! Merlin what's happening? Open this door at once."

With a wave of his hand the door unlatched. Gaius heard the sound and entered quickly, closing the door behind him. "Where are you?"

Merlin peered out from behind the partition soaking wet with the towel wrapped around him. "Uh, I took a bath. Sorry about the door, I fell asleep in the tub."

Merlin could feel his cheeks grow red and he felt ridiculous to be found in such a state, but Gaius didn't seem to take note at all. He moved over to the young man and guided him to a short stool near the fireplace.

"Your fever has gotten worse. You didn't fill that tub by yourself did you?"

"Mostly. Gwen helped with the fourth trip to the well. I was worried that she would send one of the house servants in to help me so I locked the door."

"That was very foolish, Merlin. You are in no condition to be galavanting around Camelot. Let me see your arm." Gaius didn't wait for Merlin to respond to him. He simply took a hold of Merlin's wrist and raised the arm up for inspection.

Merlin winced at the angry red wound. It still had yellowish puss seeping from it and looked altogether dreadful. Gaius set to work immediately cleaning the wound and put a cooling salve on it before affixing a new bandage.

The old physician didn't expect his young ward's next question. "Gaius, why can't I remember anything? How was I injured? I don't have any clear recollection of anything. Gwen told me that Arthur was wounded too, and that the King is furious. What happened?"

"All of that will have to wait. You need to get dressed and lie down for a while. We need to bring your fever down."

Merlin stood up reluctantly to make his way back to his room. Gaius was looking at him with a penetrating gaze that made him uncomfortable. "What is it? I have a feeling that something important happened, but I've no idea what, but you do. I can tell by the way you are staring at me."

Gaius raised both eyebrows. "I'm not staring. I simply want to make sure you don't fall flat on your face. Now let's get you into some clean clothes shall we?"

Once Merlin was properly dressed he had no intention of lying down again. He wanted answers and he was determined to get them. "Gaius, I think I'd like to have some broth or something. I'm a little hungry, but I don't know what I'll be able to hold down."

The old physician smiled and nodded. "Some broth should do quite well to begin with."

Merlin smiled to himself. He knew that Gaius would want to feed him and it gave him the opportunity to question the man about what had happened to land him in this situation. Once he was sitting at the table and Gaius busied himself with heating up some broth he asked his first question.

"Why is the King angry? Is it because of me or Arthur?"

Gaius looked at him over his shoulder for a moment and Merlin got the distinct impression that he was weighing what he would reveal.

"Uther is angry because you and Arthur were attacked by Cendred's men on your way back to Camelot."

Merlin frowned as he tried to remember. "So there was a battle. I have a vague memory that suggested that, but I can't remember anything specific. Why did they attack us?"

Gaius brought back a bowel and set it down in front of Merlin. "I'm afraid I have no idea."

Just then there was a knock at the door. Gaius called out for the visitor to come in and smiled at Gwen when she peeked her head through the door. "How is Merlin doing?"

"Well enough to eat something. I want to thank you for helping him this afternoon. I was unavoidably detained."

The young maidservant stepped in and approached the table holding an empty wash basket. "It was no trouble at all. I was pretty worried about you this afternoon. You certainly look better."

Merlin smirked. "Yeah and I smell better too, no doubt." He blushed slightly at the memory.

"Yes, about that. I have come to collect your laundry and bed linens. You are in no condition to be doing the wash, and I don't mind so before you say no, you just sit there and eat your supper and let me get on with it."

Without missing a beat she took the basket and ducked behind the partition where the bath tub was and scooped up Merlin's soiled clothes. Then she disappeared up the steps to his bed chamber.

Merlin wanted to finish his conversation with Gaius but he had to be careful not to ask any revealing questions while Gwen was close by. "How badly was Arthur injured?"

Gaius was surprised by the question and turned back to his ward. "Not very badly at all. He has suffered worse injuries in training. His only concern was getting you back here."

Merlin couldn't help the feeling of content at those words. He knew that Arthur cared about him even if he rarely of ever showed it. "So what happened to me? Was I injured in that battle?"

Once again Gaius seemed to be thinking about what he should reveal. This irritated Merlin to no end.

"Gaius, I have a right to know what happened to me!"

Both men heard Gwen moving around up the short flight of steps and then heard her pause at Merlin's shout. The older man sighed. "You were re-injured in that battle."

"Re-injured?" Merlin's eyes opened a little wider.

"Yes, apparently on your hunting trip you were pierced with a poison arrow. That is why you are having so much trouble remembering anything. The poison nearly killed you." Gaius said, but didn't offer any further explanation.

Merlin thought about that for awhile. "Were we, or should I say was Arthur hunting deer?"

"That is an odd question. Why does it matter?"

Gaius was being evasive and he wondered if it was because Gwen was listening, but he still needed answers. His fragmented memory didn't seem to reveal anything magical so he decided to continue. "I remember a deer. I don't know why I can see a deer in my minds eye, but it is just about the only clear image I have."

Gaius nodded. "That would make sense. You were in a clearing with a deer when the animal was shot with a poison arrow. The arrow went through the deer and pierced your arm. The tip was laced with Belladonna. The poison took effect almost immediately. I am not surprised that the deer is the last clear memory you have. Arthur barely got you back here in time."

That sounded right somehow. The image of the deer in his mind became clearer. It was very close to him. He had reached up a hand and was actually petting the animal. Gwen had come down the steps with the basket of laundry and stepped silently closer to the table. She was Merlin's friend and was curious to know what had happened to him.

"Who shot me, or I guess it was the deer? Isn't hunting with poison arrows illegal?"

"Indeed it is, for this very reason. Some less skilled hunters still use poison because they want to insure a kill even with a grazing shot. Arthur got a glimpse of the hunter, but he couldn't very well pursue him without allowing you to die. I for one am grateful that he choose to bring you home rather than try to arrest the other hunter."

"Gaius is right, Merlin. Arthur was right to get you back to Camelot. I didn't know Belladonna was so dangerous. I have heard of it used for other purposes." Gwen said.

"There are many uses for Belladonna. In certain extracts it can be a very powerful hallucinogen, and yet still be harmless to the subject. It can be also be used for medicinal purposes, but it must be carefully prepared. It is still a very powerful poison and not something anyone without proper training should ever attempt to use."

Gwen reached over and patted Merlin's hand. "Well I am very glad that you are back here safely. You get some rest. I'll return with these in the morning."

"Thanks for everything, Gwen." Merlin said with a genuine smile.

She picked the basket up that she had set at the base of the stairs and made her way to the door. Gaius followed her and they spoke softly for a moment before Gaius returned to the table holding something in his hand. Merlin had managed to get down almost all of the broth but his strength was completely sapped. Gaius handed him a small vial of potion.

"This is for the fever and infection. You need to drink it and get some rest. Gwen made your bed up with clean linens."

The young warlock was in no condition to argue. He felt dreadful but his heart was warmed by the people who obviously cared so much about him. He drank down the vile concoction before making his way back up to his room. Gwen had put some wild flowers in a cup on the table which made the young man smile. He hoped that a good night's sleep would clear the rest of the cotton from his mind and he would be able to remember what really happened. He loved and trusted Gaius, but he also knew without any doubt that the man was keeping something very important from him.

**TBC**


	21. Chapter 21

**Square Peg Round Hole**

**Chapter 21**

Merlin fell into a deep sleep very shortly after going to bed, and Gaius used that time to sit down and write a note to Arthur. He had to phrase the message carefully so as to persuade Arthur to come back to Camelot with Grigor willingly.

Once Gaius was certain that Merlin wouldn't wake he quietly slipped out and headed for the Inn. Much to his surprise he found that Eryl and Grigor were both nearly ready to travel.

"Have you discovered where Arthur is?"

Grigor nodded as he finished organizing his pack. "It was easier than I had expected. The Prince and his men are a day's hard riding from here. If we leave now we can be with them before dawn."

Gaius was stunned and slightly alarmed. "We? I thought the plan was to have Grigor bring Arthur back to Camelot. Has something happened to require such haste?"

Eryl had obviously finished preparations for the trip and sat quietly in the corner observing the young seer. Gaius noted that the ancient druid was once again allowing Grigor to do all of the explaining.

"It's really a matter of logistics. If I had to bring Prince Arthur back to Camelot to see Eryl, then he would be missing from his men for far too long. I was able to 'find' Arthur, but his men would obviously change their location when he turned up missing. They might even come back to Camelot. I am not certain I could find them again so easily to return the Prince."

Gaius sat down on the edge of the one of the beds. "Why would you have difficulty finding the knights when you were able to easily find Arthur?"

"Prince Arthur is a very important man, and pivotal to the prophecy. I mean no disrespect to the good knights of Camelot, but they are no more than bit characters in this play."

Gaius raised his eyebrows at that description. "Play?"

Grigor actually blushed at the old healer. "I sometimes view the prophetic visions as a sort of play. It helps me to sort out what is important from what is trivial. That is a crude explanation, but serves its purpose. It is much easier to scry someone of great importance. Their lives have more of an impact on the balance between the present and the future... if that makes any sense."

Gaius thought for a moment. "I suppose it does. You do realize, however, that you will be riding into a dangerous situation with your master. If you are caught, the knights of Camelot will uphold the law not to mention what Cendred's men would do to you if you should run afoul of them"

"It is no less dangerous here in Camelot for those such as we. If we fail in our mission, Secret Keeper, all of Albion will be lost to war and chaos. Prince Arthur has begun to realize the true nature of magic, but he is far from ready to deal with the challenges that have yet to face him. Without Emrys by his side, Camelot will fall to ruin."

Gaius was stunned by the maturity that the young apprentice spoke with. It was shocking to see such a completely different side to the young man who fainted at the mere sight of him only the day before. Gaius looked to Eryl to see what the ancient druid made of Grigor's proclamation. The eyes staring back reflected pride in the young man and Gaius saw that Eryl believed what Grigor said to be truth which was enough for the aged healer.

"Then you must make haste your departure. I believe that Arthur will go with you when he reads this note." Gaius said, as he handed the sealed parchment over to the apprentice.

The court physician walked with Grigor and Eryl as they guided their horses to the main gates. With the citadel on full alert, given the current political climate, Gaius wanted to be sure the druids would be allowed to leave the city after sun down unchallenged and knew that his presence would facilitate their departure. Even though Gaius was certain that Eryl could charm the minds of any soldiers they might run across he still feared for their safety. The roads were rife with bandits and worse. There were those that would be less susceptible to his powers of persuasion.

Grigor was a strong young man and completely devoted to his master and Gaius only hoped that he would be able to defend them against any unforeseen attack. Gaius did take note that both men carried long staffs with them and he was well aware that the walking sticks could easily be used as extremely effective weapons if necessary. The court physician watched as the druids rode out of sight before turning back toward the castle to make his way home.

* * *

Grigor felt a great sense of urgency as he rode with his master away from the city. He had no trouble finding Prince Arthur, and that alone caused him enormous consternation. Eryl was not exaggerating when speaking to the Secret Keeper of Grigor's ability to scry without aid, but it should have taken him longer to find Arthur. He had never actually seen the Prince and even though he was a pivotal figure in the future of Albion, it was always harder to locate someone whom he had never laid eyes on.

The apparent ease with which Grigor was able to scry Arthur's location as well as a clear understanding of how to get to him was terribly unsettling. The young apprentice felt deep in his heart that the prophecy concerning Emrys and Arthur was poised on the edge of disaster; a sensation that grew more defined and powerful as he searched for the young Prince of Camelot.

Grigor always felt concern for his master and knew that he was pushing himself and the ancient druid hard, but Eryl took their pace in stride, keeping up with apparent ease seeming to share the sense of immediacy in their mission.

Grigor kept to the roads for as long as he dared at a fast gallop that left the horses breathing hard. The moon was well past its zenith when he finally turned off the road and was forced to take a slower pace through the dense forests surrounding the borderlands.

Picking their way through the forest took more time than either druid was comfortable with, but in the darkness of the dense canopy there was little choice. After half an hour the trees began to thin out somewhat and they came to a stream meandering through the landscape. Grigor decided to stop for a few minutes to let the horses rest and drink while he spent a few minutes getting his bearings.

He had allowed instinct to guide him thus far, but he was beginning to feel some doubt. Eryl had been very quiet allowing the young man to lead the way. The ancient druid had effectively placed complete trust in the young apprentice, which both pleased and frightened Grigor. He now carried the burden of success or failure in their quest squarely on his shoulders and he was weighted down by that trust.

Eryl seemed to instinctively understand the young man's internal consternation and approached him quietly. "You cannot falter now, you must believe in your sight and follow your heart."

Eryl's faith in him should have put Grigor's mind at ease, but it had rather the opposite effect. "But what if I'm leading us down the wrong path? You have trained me well; this I understand, but I have so many doubts."

Eryl turned ancient eyes to the moonlit sky raising weathered hands to Grigor's shoulders. "The moon casts its glow on the world below it, lighting the way, whether for good or ill without question. The rain falls on all, bringing relief or flood without prejudice. You are neither the moon nor the rain, but seek solace in their constancy. The future rests with you, Grigor. You must cast your doubts aside and trust your own role in the events that are unfolding."

Grigor took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Turning his face up to the sky he exhaled slowly allowing his uncertainty to flow from him with the air he expelled. Eryl was older than any living human being as far as Grigor could tell and the ancient druid had placed complete faith in him. If someone as old and wise as Eryl trusted him then shouldn't he also trust himself?

Grigor sat cross-legged on the bank of the stream and closed his eyes allowing himself to feel the energy emanating from all of the living creatures in the forest. He listened to the song of the breeze through the trees allowing its calm to penetrate his heart. He was aware of Eryl who sat beside him and allowed the old druid's presence to act as a well of strength to draw upon. An image formed in his mind's eye. A very small campfire in a wooded corpse surrounded by men clad in traveling clothes. One man sat watch over the others peering through the dim light on alert for any movement in the darkened trees.

Grigor allowed his perception to change as he floated above the group slowing rising up higher and higher until the tiny light from the fire was but a pin point poking through the tree tops. Always keeping that point of faint light in his sight he rose higher still until he could see for miles in every direction. The moon glowed brightly over the forest and off to the west of the camp fire he saw the sparkling water of a small stream. Concentrating on that shimmer of moonlight reflecting off the surface of the swiftly running water he looked closer until he could see it clearly. He allowed his mind to float swiftly along, following the winding path of the water through the forested land until he came to a small clearing on the east bank. Two dim figures sat quietly in the dark as two horses stood drinking from the water only a few feet away.

Movement to the north a few hundred feet from the clearing caught Grigor's attention. He turned his sight to a group of three figures moving silently through the trees. The figures were moving in the direction of the horses drinking from the stream. Each carried a sword at their side and shouldered bags. As he moved closer to the men he could see that they wore rough clothing and drank from skins as they walked. This group had an air of ill fortune about them. They stopped for a moment listening. Grigor could hear the horses at the water's edge. The sound was both far off and close at the same time. The men drew their swords grinning as they dropped their bags and began to carefully approach the sound.

Grigor's eyes snapped open and he stood quickly. Without a word to Eryl he moved to the horses and took their reins moving them away from the water and securing them to a stout young sapling then drew out the staffs. He tossed one to Eryl who caught it soundlessly before moving with absolute silence deeper into the woods to the north.

Grigor knew exactly where the brigands were based on his vision and took up a place hidden from them next to the twisted trunk of a very old tree who limbs hung low, heavy with foliage. As the men approached he gripped the staff tightly in his hands. When they were only ten feet from him he stepped out from the shadow of the tree trunk and stood quietly blocking their path, his staff held ready.

None of the men had seen or heard him. The leader looked ahead and simply saw him standing there as if he had materialized out of thin air. The jeering smile he wore on his face slipped as fear replaced confidence in his eyes. The man wore a grim expression as he attempted to regain some composure after being startled by Grigor's sudden appearance. "Well, well, what have we here? A bit late to be wondering the woods, boy."

Grigor stood resolute and eyed the drawn swords. Eryl had ensured that Grigor received extensive training in self defense using a staff as a weapon. As semi-nomadic druids, they were always at risk of being singled out by brigands such as these. Grigor moved to his right keeping all three men clearly in his line of sight. "I'll thank you to sheath your swords and move on. I have no desire to harm you."

That brought raucous laughter to the two men behind their leader.

"You hear that, Arron. He doesn't want to hurt us!" The man to the left said in a mocking tone as he stepped further to the left.

Grigor could see that these men were attempting to take up flanking positions surrounding him. He knew that he would have no choice but to fight these men, but didn't want to take the time or risk injury to himself or Eryl who had stayed behind with the horses. He gripped his staff tightly and raised it so that it was level with his chest. His eyes glowed gold causing the staff to glow as well which on turn caused the men to stop their forward advance.

"You should leave now." Grigor said in a calm voice, praying that the overt display of magic would dissuade any further attempt at attack on the part of these men.

"He's a sorcerer!" The man in back to the right shouted just as the man to the left backed up telling the leader "I won't fight a druid."

Arron seemed to forget his fear as anger at his man came to the surface. "Hold your ground. This is but a boy with a stick."

The leader of these brigands didn't realize how close he was to the truth. Grigor's power lay in his ability to see. His ability to use overt magic was rudimentary at best. Eryl had taught him some simple incantations that could be used to start a fire or move an object, but Grigor always had to concentrate very carefully to accomplish these mundane tasks with any real success. Choosing not to rely on his limited magical arsenal, Grigor decided that the best defense was a strong offense. He stepped forward with alarming speed and used his staff bringing it down sharply across the wrist of the leader disarming him. With a quick spin of the staff and upward movement he cracked the man under the chin hard enough to send him stumbling backward.

The other two men charged forward from either side brandishing their swords. Grigor spun quickly using the staff to counter the downward swing of the closer man on his right. Sensing the approach of the man on his left he thrust his staff backward catching the man in the mid rift causing him to double over. He then thrust the staff forward attempting to do the same to the man in front of him but he side stepped and the blow missed him. Grigor quickly found himself surrounded by the bandits including the leader who had recovered his sword and now came at Grigor with a bloody chin and a desire for vengeance.

Grigor used his training to his advantage, but these men had clearly been trained in fighting as well and pressed their advantage in numbers. He was able to parry the blows and thrusts from two of the swords-men effectively and continued to move in an attempt to avoid the third. He could almost feel the approach and knew he would suffer at the end of the man's blade, but before he could be run through he heard the third man cry out in shock and pain.

Eryl had entered the fight unnoticed by all and had effectively taken down one of the bandits evening up the odds considerably. Grigor was not happy to see his mentor fighting these men. The ancient druid had incredible stamina for one so old, but the druid's age alone was a huge disadvantage.

Before Grigor realized what had happened he found himself back to back with Eryl as the druids defended themselves from the leader who had blood in his eyes and his remaining conscious companion. The two remaining bandits kept up a tireless assault on the druids until their strength began to wane. Sensing victory the leader let out a blood curdling battle cry and charged forward. Eryl spoke clearly in a voice that seemed far too powerful for one so small and frail, "Fyrwylm ascufan!"*

A roiling fire lashed out from where the druids stood engulfing their attackers, causing them to fly backward. Both men were thrown with tremendous force into trees behind them and slumped to the ground as their clothing smoldered. The flames died away as quickly as they appeared leaving only smoke in their wake. The three brigands were alive but unconscious, and now badly burned.

Grigor turned to face his mentor, shocked by what had happened. He knew that Eryl possessed powerful magic, but in all the years that he had known the druid, Grigor had never seen Eryl use magic in this manner. It was almost beyond comprehension. When Grigor looked closely he could see that the fight and the magic had drained Eryl's strength and any astonishment he felt washed away in a wave of concern.

"Eryl, are you all right?"

The ancient druid raised a hand waving off the question. "We cannot leave them this way. Go and fetch my bag."

"What? Eryl, they tried to murder us. You mean to mend their wounds?" Grigor was dumbfounded and annoyed. They could not afford this kind of delay. Their mission was too important to threaten it over men of this ilk.

"We will not linger, but I have no intention of leaving these men to die painfully. It is not our way, Grigor."

"I know that, Eryl. I just don't always agree with it." Grigor said, as he left to retrieve the horses.

Eryl made quick work of coating the men's burns with a salve that was in a small wooden box. The effect was almost miraculous to watch. The angry red burns immediately lost some color and began to more closely resembled a bad sun burn under the shiny surface of the balm. Arron regained consciousness as the druid applied the salve to him.

"What are you doing, sorcerer?" he spat out as viciously as he could given the amount of pain he was in.

Eryl held the man's gaze steadily. "I am treating your burns. You and your men will need rest and you will need to keep your wounds clean."

The confusion showing in the bandit's eyes was abundantly clear. The thought of tending to the injuries of an enemy was absolutely alien to him. "Why?"

"I am not a sorcerer," was the only answer Eryl would give to the man.

As soon as the men were tended, Eryl rose and approached the horses looking utterly spent. "We have been too long in this place. It is time to move on."

Eryl got no complaint from Grigor who was more than willing to leave these men behind to fend for themselves. He knew exactly what direction to travel in and figured that they would reach the Prince in a little over an hour without further interruptions. Grigor did insist that Eryl ride while he guided the horses through the forest however. The fight and the use of such powerful magic had drained the ancient druid of strength. Eryl needed to be able to preform the incantation necessary to wipe the Prince's memory and set the balance of the prophecy back in line.

TBC

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for your patience. I have not abandoned this story. It is taking me a while to get to the new chapters. Thank you for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy it.

Below you will find the old English translations of the spell used by Eryl. My computer does not have the capability of putting the accent marks over the proper letters so I had no choice but to spell it out as seen in the text.

_Fyrwylm_ - wave of fire  
_ascufan_ - to drive out, remove, expel, banish, push away


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Hey I'll bet you all thought I'd forgotten about this story or given up on it. Well one of my new years resolutions is to get my WIPs done! I have a compleated Primeval story I can't really post until I finish at least one of my WIPs.  
I would like to thank Expecto Kiwiland for jumping in to beta the final chapters of this story. Thanks for reading and I hope the wait was worth it.  
Alice I

**Square Peg Round Hole  
****Chapter 22**

Grigor set a jogging pace for himself that amounted to a slow cantor for the horses. He felt the strong need to put a good distance between himself and the bandits they had fought, even though he knew none of the men were in any condition to follow them. By the time he drew close to the ridge that separated him from the small camp of knights, Grigor was panting hard and needed to stop to catch his breath. There were still a few hours left before sunrise, and with luck they should be able to complete their mission.

Grigor tied the horses off to a low hanging branch in a small clearing before moving off to climb a short hill that overlooked a sheltered glade where Prince Arthur and his men slept. Peering over the ridge he looked down at the camp. The fire that burned was barely more than embers casting so little light that he couldn't make out which sleeping figure was the Prince. The guard on duty was slowly pacing the parameter of the camp, clearly alert to any sound. Grigor's heart sank. He knew that he would not be able to get past the watchful eyes of the guard without being seen or heard. He considered creating a diversion, but quickly dismissed the idea. Any sort of diversion would wake the rest of the knights. From a tactical standpoint there was no option. The sleeping figures were not positioned in a way that they could be easily identified from a distance, the sentry was awake a vigilant, the forest was quiet in the pre-dawn dark. There was not even the crackle of the campfire to cover the sounds of approaching footsteps.

As Grigor sat quietly trying to figure out how he was going to make this work, Eryl squatted down beside him looking down at the encampment as well. The ancient druid had made no sound and appeared to just suddenly be there as if by magic, though the young apprentice knew better. Grigor was still stunned at how his master could creep up so silently, but what took him by surprise was the nearly inaudible voice of his master. "It seems the Gods are smiling on us."

Grigor turned a confused face to the ancient druid. How could there be hope in this situation? Eryl only smiled and stared down; his eyes following the guard circling the parameter. Grigor turned his attention back to the scene below and as the guard turned to begin his slow trek back toward the east end of the camp the moonlight illuminated his features. The guard was Prince Arthur.

Hope blossomed in the young man; this made things much less complicated as the young man began in his mind to form a new plan to get Arthur away from the camp. Before Grigor could come up with a solid idea the Prince stopped and began peering intently at the thick wooded terrain on the far end of the ridge where he and Eryl lay conceled.

Looking back he saw Eryl sitting cross-legged with eyes closed as a softly spoken incantation caused a small globe of blue light to form in the druid's hand. Turning back to the scene below, Grigor saw that the Prince had carefully begun to move toward the ridge. Chancing detection, the young man stood up trying to see what had attracted Prince Arthur's attention. An identical glowing orb as that of the one in Eryl's hand bobbed gently through the forest leading the Prince directly toward them.

Grigor sat back down more than a little stunned. The idea was ingenius and not something he would have thought of himself. The young man briefly wondered why the Crowned Prince of Camelot would wander after the softly glowing orb without first waking one of the others, but he had little time to consider the matter as he caught sight of a faint blue glow coming around the hill, moving closer to their position. Eryl remained sitting with eyes closed seemingly deep in concentration, so Grigor quickly withdrew the sealed parchment that the Secret Keeper had given him and stood in front of his master shielding him from the approaching knight. Grigor bowed his head and held the message out as footsteps approached his position. He could clearly hear the Prince carefully making his way through the densely covered ground, and then the footsteps stopped. He heard a sword sliding free of its scabbard and the young man tensed. The last thing he wanted to do was to fight the Prince, but he would protect Eryl at any cost.

* * *

.

* * *

Arthur was glad for his turn at keeping watch. He needed some time alone with his thoughts which were churning with conflict. The past week had given Arthur almost too much to think about. He knew what was right, what was just, and he knew the laws of Camelot, laws that he had willingly broken. These were the very same laws that he had openly sworn to up-hold. This is not the first time that the young Prince had felt the law was wrong, but where was he to draw the line? Arthur believed in the laws of Camelot, for the most part. He felt that his father was a good King and a strong leader, yet his hatred of anything magical was a subject that had caused an increasingly strained tension between them.

The experiences he had recently been through with Merlin and the people in the druid settlement had forever changed Arthur's view of magic, and yet it wasn't so easy to just let go of the fear and mistrust of it that had been drilled into him since birth. He had no doubts at all that the people living in that camp were good honest folks who only wished to live in peace. He knew this to be true deep in his heart despite the ruse of trying to kill him that the elders had employed in order to get Merlin, _Emrys _he mentally corrected himself, to wake from his prolonged slumber.

Finding out that Merlin had magic had nearly undone Arthur completely. Merlin was the one person that he had always trusted and yet he had just found out that the boy had lied to him from the very beginning.

_A lie of necessity._

Merlin could not tell him the truth. Arthur had to be honest with himself, if Merlin had told him the truth he was pretty sure he would have turned him over to his father, so why was he so unwilling to do so now?

_Because it's wrong._

Merlin had only ever served both Arthur and Camelot. He had risked his very life to save Arthur on many occasions. He was willing to die for Arthur, and had used his magic as a force for good and justice. There was no evil in Merlin, so why should he be executed for being born with magic. That isn't his fault; he didn't choose magic, or decide to study it. The druids had told Arthur that magic was simply a part of Merlin.

_He is your friend._

Arthur thought he was beginning to come to terms with his preconceptions of magic and his experiences with it when matters became more complicated. One of his scouts thought that they had seen the sorceress Morgouse making her way toward Cendred's castle. Leon had not been positive that the rider, whom he had only seen from the back, was indeed the sorceress, but the chain-mail clad rider had the slight build of a woman and long flowing blonde hair just like Morgause. That served to churn up uncomfortable memories for the young Prince as well as give him reason to feel great concern. Magic, no matter if used for good or evil, was dangerous. There was no doubt in Arthur's mind that Morgause was evil and sought to bring Camelot down. She had tricked him into nearly killing his own father and if it hadn't been for Merlin...

Arthur let his thoughts stop mid-stream. After that encounter with Morgause, Arthur was blinded by rage toward his own father. It was Merlin who stopped him from killing the King; a man who would have Merlin executed without hesitation if he knew what the boy was capable of. Merlin's argument had reinforced to Arthur that anyone who used magic was evil. He remembered saying as much to his servant and thanking him for his input. How must that have made him feel, being a user of magic himself? Merlin had spoken against Morgause so that Arthur would not commit patricide in his state of rage, but at what cost to himself?

_How many times has Merlin suffered on my behalf?_

Arthur couldn't help but think about all of the times his servant had quietly intervened, ending up protecting him from other users of magic; _evil_ users of magic? He was once again struck by how difficult life must be for Merlin; forced to keep his true nature a secret while protecting a kingdom that openly persecutes men and women like him. Arthur couldn't comprehend why someone like Merlin had even come to Camelot in the first place. The druids told him that Merlin's destiny was linked with his own and that they were both part of some ancient prophecy.

Could gangling, clumsy, ridiculous, Merlin have such a strong sense of duty? Arthur smiled to himself knowing the answer to that question already. His servant had proven his loyalty time and time again. That's one thing that Arthur would never question about Merlin, but that still left him with the question of what to do about all of this. Arthur would not turn Merlin over to the King, but he was the Crowned Prince of Camelot and he was knowingly harboring a user of magic. Arthur was guilty of treason no matter how he looked at it. He had sworn an oath to up hold the laws of Camelot, and yet he was breaking the one law that was the most important to his father. The trouble lay in finding a way to reconcile the law with what he knew to be right. It was enough to make his head ache.

_I wish I had never found out about Merlin._

Arthur's thoughts were interrupted as something moving through the trees caught his attention. He could just make out a faint blue glow that stirred vaguely familiar feelings in him. He carefully approached the tree line getting closer to something just beyond sight and he felt a small flutter in his stomach. The object of his scrutiny always seemed to be just behind the trunk of a tree, but as he drew closer it would move remaining just beyond his vision behind another tree or the body of a bush. He moved forward until he was at the tree-line and suddenly his quarry came into full view. Arthur stopped moving and stood there; his mouth hanging open as he stared wide eyed at the sight before him.

Memories flooded his mind as he looked upon a floating blue orb that just hung there as if inviting him to follow it. Arthur thought briefly of waking the others, but dismissed the idea quickly. This was magic at work, but for good or ill? The only other time he had seen this was when he went to forests of Balor to retrieve the Mortius flower. This same kind of light came to him then, deep in the caves, and guided him to safety. Glancing back at his sleeping men, Arthur nodded to himself and turned back to the orb as it began to move carefully through the trees.

The light bobbed gently through the forest following the natural contour of the ridge of land surrounding their camp. As he climbed the ridge following it Arthur began to feel an odd sense of urgency. There was nothing pursuing him as there had been the last time he had encountered this same kind of light, but that sense of gnawing immediacy grew none-the-less. He was nearing the top of the ridge that overlooked the small cove where the knights had made camp when Arthur saw two cloaked figures ahead in the night. Immediately he was on alert and withdrew his sword, but as he drew closer to the figures he slowed in confusion. The light from the orb softly illuminated the two. One of the cloaked figures stood in front of the second in what Arthur perceived as a protective gesture and held his hand out as though presenting something, though Arthur couldn't make out what it was. There didn't seem to be any threat in the man's stance; rather he bowed his head submissively. The light of the orb faded as the thing dissipated into thin air leaving only the moonlight in its wake.

"Who are you?"

The young man looked up. Arthur could now clearly see his face and he knew that this man, barely more than a boy, was here for a purpose.

"Sire, we come bearing a message."

Arthur took a step closer to the young man who he assumed was a druid. "Did you create that light? I've seen it before, in the caves within the forests of Balor. Did you send the light then?"

Curiosity flashed across the young druid's face at Arthur's words and he looked ready to ask about this startling revelation. Instead he looked at the object in his hand squaring his shoulders. "This message is for you, Prince Arthur of Camelot."

Arthur made no move to take the proffered note. He instead looked beyond the young man at the frail old druid sitting cross-legged behind him, then he looked around at the surrounding terrain. Keeping his sword out and at the ready Arthur moved off to the side of the druids and forward until he was able to see over the rise of the embankment. Looking down at his own sleeping men the Prince tensed and turned back to the druids in a clearly defensive stance now holding his sword with two hands.

"You were spying on us. Did Cendred send you? What kind of trick is this?"

The young man kept his hand extended but bowed his head while moving to his left in order to block Arthur's direct line to the old one still sitting quite serenely on the embankment. This young druid was trying to show deference to Arthur with the head bow, but he was also clearly interested in protecting the old one.

"We were sent by your court physician, Gaius."

That was the last thing Arthur ever expected to hear and it caught him completely off guard. "Gaius?" Arthur couldn't fathom why Gaius would be sending him a message at this time, sent in this manner, by druids. His confusion suddenly changed to concern.

_Something must have happened. _

His concern became alarm as he realized that what ever it was must have to do with Merlin. The boy, his friend, was very ill when he left. He may have taken a turn for the worst. He stepped forward quickly and snatched the note from the young man's hand feeling his gut tighten. He tore open the parchment thankful for the bright moon that allowed him to read.

_Arthur,_

_I have received grave news that concerns Merlin. I truly fear for his life and I have come to know that you alone can save him from a brutal death. I know that this makes no sense, but please know that I trust the source of this information without reservation. As you have trusted me all of your life, I ask you to trust in me now. _

_The young man who bears this message will guide you to his master who will explain what must be done to save Merlin. No one can know where you have gone or why. It is imperative that you tell no one of this. _

_Arthur, Merlin is as a son to me. I humbly beg your assistance in this matter. _

_Gaius_

As Arthur read he felt a chill seep over him and raise the hairs on the back of his neck. He looked up at the young druid man standing before him and again at the old one sitting behind him.

"Why would Gaius send you rather than one of the royal couriers, or guards? You are druids, are you not? How did he even contact you?"

Arthur expected the young man to speak so he was taken aback when a voice that was both ancient and vital sounded from everywhere, yet was not loud enough to wake the knights sleeping below. The volume of it was scarcely more than a softly spoken word, but it came from every direction, unsettling Arthur.

"The question that you must ask yourself, young Pendragon, is do you believe the missive?"

Arthur stood still for a moment as he pondered the question. He did believe the note. He knew Gaius' hand very well, but what was more important, the chill running down his spine upon reading the note's contents told him it was true. He sheathed his sword and folded the note carefully sticking it in his pocket.

He stepped forward to come closer to the old druid sitting on the ground, but the young man still blocked his way. "I trust Gaius with my life. I will hear what you have to say."

The old druid rose so gracefully from the ground that Arthur wondered how someone of such an age could move so easily. "Come with me young Pendragon. Grigor keep watch over the knights."

Before Arthur could voice his feelings about this young man taking over watch, the old druid moved away from the edge of the embankment, down a slope toward a small clearing where two horses were tied to a low branch of a tree.

"What is your name?" Arthur asked as they sat down on the grass of the clearing.

"I am known as Eryl."

The moon shown brightly on the clearing making it easy for Arthur to see the druid's features. Old was an inadequate word to describe Eryl. Ancient would have been a better descriptor. Arthur didn't believe he had ever seen a face so old. Thin white hair hung down around Eryl's face in wispy tendrils. The lines of age carved so deeply in the skin as to hide any distinguishing feature, but the eyes showed a vitality that seemed in complete contrast to the frailty of the body.

Arthur found himself wondering if Eryl were a man or a woman. The druid's neck was as deeply wrinkled as the rest of the face and the Prince could not make out an Adam's apple, though a feature like that could easily be hidden within the many folds, and there were no whiskers on Eryl's face. The voice was rusty with great age and could easily have belonged to either a man or a woman. Still Arthur's musings would have to wait. He wanted to know what danger threatened his friend.

"Gaius wrote that Merlin was in mortal peril and would die a brutal death. At whose hands?"

"Are you aware that you both are part of an ancient prophecy?"

"I recently spent some time with a druid community and was told of this prophecy. They didn't tell me specifically what the details of the prophecy were, but that Merlin's fate and my own were intertwined." Arthur looked closely at the druid before him. Perhaps this one would tell him the details. "What do you know of the prophecy?"

"I know everything about the prophecy. It was my own ancestor who saw it hundreds of years ago. I have seen many things, Arthur Pendragon. Of all the druid people, I have the sight, the ability to see the past and the future with the most clarity. You were not meant to know any of this, not yet. What was told to you has put everything in peril. The entire future of Albion is now threatened."

Arthur felt an inexplicable pang of regret, but shook it off. "They made me promise to never share with Merlin what happened. He remembers nothing of the time we spent in the Druid settelment. He must go on hiding his true nature from me and I can never let him know that I found out about his magic. They said he was special and his coming had been foretold long ago. I still find that all so hard to believe. I mean seriously Merlin? But then I saw what he could do, even delirious with fever and out of his mind. He called for rain and the sky opened up. That is a power that no human being should have. It is the power of God himself."

"This occult display of power frightened you." Eryl's statement held no guile, it was simply an observation.

"No man is meant to wield such power. That kind of power will corrupt the soul."

"Has your servant's soul been corrupted by this power that he was born with?"

Arthur didn't want to be put on the defensive. "No, not at all, but..." Every instinct told him that this kind of power was dangerous. He stood up abruptly and began pacing. "Merlin is not corrupt. He hasn't an evil bone in his body, but to have the power to command nature itself? Doesn't that frighten you, even a little?"

"Fear is a decision we make based on our experiences. Emrys..." Eryl paused for a moment before continuing, "Merlin, is a creature of nature. I do not fear him any more than I fear the thunder. I choose to believe in his destiny, a destiny that I myself have foreseen. That is what we must talk about Arthur Pendragon. The prophecy has been broken, your destiny and Merlin's have been changed. I have seen it and the markings are clear. If all remains as it is now, within the next year Merlin will die a brutal death."

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

**Square peg Round Hole**

**Chapter 23**

The forest seemed to grow silent after Eryl spoke. Arthur stared at the ancient druid trying to see any guile behind those shining eyes, but saw none. Eryl believed that what he had seen was absolute truth, and that frightened Arthur more than the pronouncement that Merlin would die within a year's time.

"Have you ever seen something that did not come to pass?" Arthur wanted to know.

He was completely out of his depth on this and he needed to know what the parameters of the situation were. The first step to achieving that was to gauge how reliable his only source of information was.

"No."

Arthur wasn't sure what he was thinking this druid would say to him. Possibly some lengthy explanation of how complicated seeing the future was, or how the future evolved with the natural ebb and flow of time and was as unpredictable as the water running through a brook. He suddenly realized that he expected to hear something that Aenya might have said, and wondered how he had come to think of the druid school teacher as the most reliable word concerning magic. What he did _not_ expect was a simple, clear, decisive answer. He saw no deceit in the vibrant eyes staring back at him. As he looked at this druid before him, he knew that he believed what Eryl said, or at the very least that Eryl believed it.

The threat was real or at least real enough to be addressed seriously. The next step was to determine what direction the threat came from, find it, and eliminate it. "Alright, who is going to kill Merlin?"

Once again Arthur was completely unprepared for Eryl's answer or how it would shake him to his very foundation.

"You."

* * *

Eryl watched as the color drained from Arthur's face. The emotions that played across the young Prince's features were easy to read. Shock was quickly replaced with disbelief. Arthur actually shook his head whether to deny the pronouncement or shake the image loose from his mind was uncertain. Eryl looked on as that disbelief slowly morphed into fear and shame which confused the seer a little. Fear was perfectly natural, but unless the young man believed that this fate was inevitable, then shame didn't quite fit.

Arthur jumped up rather suddenly and began pacing in a small circle. The strong emotion rolling off of him was nearly palpable. "No, I would never... I've already decided; I won't turn him over to my father. I know I'm committing treason by keeping his secret, but he has done nothing but protect Camelot, even if with magic. My father is wrong. Not all magic is evil. I won't be the cause of Merlin's death. You are wrong seer." Arthur stopped pacing and faced the druid with a furious expression. "You are wrong!"

Arthur's anxiety over this was obvious and the young man was shouting by the time he had finished. Eryl began to understand why shame had crossed Prince Arthur's features. He had already considered releasing Emrys to his fate at the hands of Uther. Eryl decided to use Arthur's fear and shame to good advantage and simply waited for Arthur to come to his own conclusion. The ancient druid could see the struggle within Arthur and felt badly for him, but this was a necessary trial for the young man.

Arthur pulled the note from his pocket and read it through again. It was clear to Eryl that Arthur held the word of Gaius in high esteem. The young man looked at Eryl then back at the note. Once again the Prince moved suddenly and without warning. He stalked over to face Eryl thrusting the parchment out.

"Gaius believes what you have told me. I trust Gaius, but I know myself. I will not turn Merlin over to the King, and I most certainly will not harm him myself. Admit that you made a mistake, druid. I will not allow Merlin to die."

Eryl found the words that Arthur chose to be more than fortuitous, they mirrored exactly what would happen if Arthur did not agree to the incantation.

"Arthur Pendragon, what I have seen will come to pass. Merlin will die in your service sent into danger on your behest and never return, if you choose to do nothing."

Arthur stood mute before the druid obviously trying to process what had been said. He began shaking his head. "No I would not send Merlin into a dangerous situation. He is a servant, not a knight. He has sworn no oath to lay his life down for Camelot. You must be wrong. I would not do such a thing."

Eryl just waited and watched as a vast array of emotions swept over the Prince. He was nearly ready to listen when he dropped to the ground looking lost and scared. "Please tell me that I wont do this. Merlin is no soldier. Magic or not, he can barely hold a sword properly. I would not allow him to face that kind of danger."

"Not intentionally. Your perceptions of your servant have fundamentally changed. You saw him command a power that you can barely fathom, and yet he is still naught but your servant. Without even knowing it, you have changed the way you think about Merlin and that will be his undoing, and yours. You are meant to discover the true nature of magic on your own, when you are ready. The trials that you both have gone through and the ones still laid out before you are what are meant to shape you both into the men you are destined to become. This knowledge that you have threatens all of that."

Arthur grew pensive. "You are speaking of this prophecy aren't you?"

"The future that was meant to be, stands balanced on the brink of disaster. There are many paths that lead to the future, some more treacherous than others. Some, once embarked upon, wipe others out of existence. That is what happened when you discovered that your servant had magic, and not just any magic. You were not meant to learn of this for many years to come."

"I don't see how my knowing about Merlin should change his future so much or mine. You say that I will have eventually known."

"That is true, but by that time you will be King and will have faced many more challenges that you can not yet begin to imagine. You will be a different man than your are today."

"You say that I will send Merlin into danger because I know he has magic. Well now that you have told me this, I will be vigilant and be sure that does not happen. Will that change your vision? I have to believe that it will or else Gaius wouldn't have said that I am the only one who can save him. It means there is a way to save Merlin."

This is precisely what Eryl was waiting for. "Once an idea has taken a home in the mind and in the heart it's growth can not easily be stopped or controlled. Vowing to never send Merlin into danger will not be enough, but there is a way to reverse the path that you have begun to travel; a way to bring the true path back into focus, but only you can make that happen Arthur Pendragon."

The Prince seemed to be considering what he had been told then he nodded to himself and looked at Eryl. "Alright, what must I do?"

* * *

The sky had begun to go from the velvety black of night to a deep lustrous blue heralding the approach of dawn. Arthur had to admit to feeling some nervousness at what he would have to do to salvage the situation, but his mind was made up. What ever it was, he would do it to save his young servant; his friend. Fleetingly Arthur thought about that distinction. He realized that he really _did_ consider Merlin a friend, even if he could never admit to that out loud, it didn't change the fact that he looked on the young man as akin to a brother.

Arthur was fairly good at reading people's faces when he put his mind to it and he thought he caught a barest hint of a smile twitch at the ancient seer's lips. "The problem lies in what you know. You must forget that you know about Merlin's magic."

Arthur could not believe what he had just heard. It was preposterous. "I cannot un-see what I have seen. I cannot un-know what I know. I would gladly give my life to save Merlin, but what you ask is not possible."

"There is an incantation from the old religion that can take memory from a willing participant. It is very old and few even know of its existence. I can take the memory of your discovery from you, but you must willingly submit to the spell, and know that there will be a price."

Arthur felt his skin prickle with goose flesh at the suggestion. Not only was he committing treason for harboring a known sorcerer, but now he was contemplating the use of magic on himself. That thought nearly undid him right there. He had always been taught to fear magic and he _did_ fear it. He had always been taught that the users of magic were corrupted by its use, that it was evil, but this warred with his recent experience.

He had spent two days with the druids and seen magic used as easily as people breathed. He saw average folk living simple lives untainted by the magic that was all around them. He had attended a school lesson for children who were learning the mysteries of magic and spoke with a young teacher who likened magic to the workings of the natural world. What's more he believed her. It was hard to accept her explanations of how magic was no different that a flower growing or a woman giving birth to a baby, but somehow her reasoning had stuck with him and seeped into his beliefs. His perceptions of magic had already changed. For better or for worse, Arthur believed that everything he had been taught about magic was wrong, or at the very least skewed by hate and fear.

So why was this suggestion of submitting to an spell so difficult for him to accept? Had he not just wish a hour ago that he had never learned of Merlin's magic because of the position it put him in?

"How would this spell work, and what is this price that must be paid?"

"You would have to understand and agree to losing the memory of your entire trip with Merlin and the days following..."

"What?" Arthur interrupted. "Why can't you just take away the memory of the druid's trying to burn me at the stake? That was when Merlin revealed himself, and to be honest it is not a memory I would mind losing."

"Memories are all interconnected. Not even the greatest of the masters of the old religion could pluck random pieces of memory from someone. If you remember the trip you will remember the hunting accident. If you remember the hunting accident you will remember visiting the druid settlement. That memory is tied to Merlin revealing his magic. Your journey back to Camelot is tied to the memory of the druid settlement and the troubles you encountered that spurned this scouting mission are all connected back to the decision to go on that trip with Merlin in the first place..."

Arthur was shaking his head and had to interrupt again. "But that trip to the druid settlement changed everything for me. It wasn't only the time I spent with the druids. Merlin and I connected on a different level than we ever had before. Through our conversations I learned some difficult truths about myself and my kingdom. This trip changed me as a man, it changed me as a future ruler, and it changed the way I view magic. Would you have me plunged back into the belief that magic and all who use it are evil and corrupted?"

Arthur saw smoldering anger flash across Eryl's eyes followed by true sadness. He had no idea how he knew this, but something in his gut told him that the anger was directed at the druid elders and the sadness was directed at himself.

"It is very unfortunate that you must loose all that you have learned. That was meant to be,.." Arthur couldn't stop himself he had to cut the druid off again.

"Wait, if that was meant to happen then you can't take the memory from me."

Eryl held up a hand to still his protests. "The council of elders are the ones who broke the prophecy and plunged the future into doubt. Their decision to force Em...

...to force Merlin to protect you was where your path diverged from its true course, but to remove your knowledge of Merlin's magic you must also loose your time with the druid settlement and all you discovered about yourself as a man, as the future King, and as a friend to your servant. This is the price that must be paid to put the course of the future back on the right path."

Arthur understood what Eryl was saying and it made sense, but he was having great difficulty with the price. He would abdicate the thrown more easily then to loose the days he spent learning things he would need to know to be an effective and fair ruler.

"How am I to rule my people when I don't understand them? How many of my people live in fear because they have magic and might be discovered? How am I to rule when I willing close my eyes to common place injustices that I have learned of in the past week? The price you ask is too great, seer."

"It is not a price that I ask, it is simply the only way to set the course of the future back on the right path. It is the only way to save Merlin from a brutal death. You will rule with Merlin at your side as a friend and advisor. You will learn those things you have forgotten, with his help. He will grow to be the most powerful warlock to ever live with your help and together you will ensure the unity of all Albion in an era of peace."

Arthur stared hard at Eryl as he spoke. The future he predicted sounded wonderful, but he was still skeptical. He was meant to learn the things he learned and now he would have to re-learn them in some other way. He was unsure that this would come to pass now that the course of events had been changed.

"Can you promise me that this future you speak of will indeed come to pass?"

Eryl's face was unreadable, but there was a spark of something in the druid's eye. "The future is still unwritten. The prophecy can be saved, but you must understand that this task takes a different kind of courage. It is far more harrowing to trust yourself to the unknown than to fight off the fiercest of armies. So I ask you, Arthur Pendragon, understanding all that you will loose and all that you will gain, do you submit to the incantation of your own free will?"

This was the moment of truth, and Arthur believed that Eryl was not exaggerating about this taking a greater courage than fighting the greatest of foes. He was for the first time in his life genuinely frightened. This decision was easily the most difficult one he had ever faced and he had to step away from Eryl for a moment to think.

Merlin was not just his servant. Arthur had come to truly accept that over the last couple of weeks. Merlin was his friend, and if he was honest, the boy really was his best friend. Merlin had facilitated a huge change in him and the way he looked at the world. But this decision couldn't be just about Merlin. He had a responsibility to his kingdom and losing all the knowledge he had gained was not a good thing for his people.

Eryl said that with Merlin at his side he would unite all the land under a peaceful rule that thrived. Could he still do that without Merlin? If Merlin was meant to be the most powerful warlock that ever lived who was he to deny that future, and perhaps it is Merlin's future that sealed his own. Eryl didn't promise that the shining future he described would actually come to pass, but he believed that Eryl would fight to preserve that future. Gaius trusted this seer and Arthur had never had any reason to doubt Gaius. He had been his physician since birth as well as friend and advisor to the young man as he had grown up.

Then Arthur thought of his father. He loved and respected his father, but he was not blind to the King's short-sightedness when it came to magic. Morgause had proven to him that magic was evil by using his memory of his mother against him. His father would cast him aside, he would disown Arthur completely if he knew what his son was contemplating and that thought bored a hole in the young man's heart, but somewhere in that same heart Arthur realized that his decision had already been made.

He turned to face Eryl. With resolution shining in his eyes, Arthur walked over to the ancient druid and sat down in front of the seer.

"I, Arthur Pendragon, Crowned Prince of Camelot, willingly agree to the incantation born of the old religion to erase my memory of the trip to the druid settlement and all the memories associated with that trip."

TBC

A/N: Thank you for your patience. This story is almost finished. The next chapter may well be the final one. I just need to figure out the best way to present it. Thank you once again for your support. It means a great deal to any author to know that the work they do is appreciated.  
Alice I


End file.
